The Curious Case of Maria Ashdown
by Elleari
Summary: Unfortunate events are no mystery to Dr. Maria Ashdown. Sherlock/Oc Story set after the Falls (DROPPED STORY, VERY LITTLE CHANCE I PICK IT BACK UP AGAIN. SORRY. DON"T READ BECAUSE IT IS INCOMPLETE?)
1. Prologue

**The Curious Case of Ashdown**

xXx

**Prologue**

Maria Ashdown sat behind the library's main desk. Sighing a bit, she rubbed at her head. It had been aching annoyingly for weeks. Sipping her tea, she glanced around the large area. '_College student, student...university student. There's a professor.' _A young boy sat alone, staring wistfully into space. Maria followed his gaze as it fell on another woman on the other side of the hall. _'Having an affair with...her!' _Her jewelry was clean but her wedding ring was almost filthy. She neglected it and yet her other precious things where clean, a clear sign of an unhappy marriage and apparently an affair. _'Now, where is Mr. White?' _She put down her tea and rolled over to the filing cabinets. Watching another woman Maria recognized as a professor's helper, she recognized her queasiness. _'Oh my! She's Pregnant, isn't she?_ _Poor Dedee, from her earrings... she doesn't know that she's pregnant yet... She'll find out soon enough.' _

Maria knew everyone in the library. She had been working there for 2 years and she could easily name off half the students and professors. She knew what they did, who they where or even who they did it with. She saw it all, and she hadn't even talked to most of them.

For the few people who actually noticed her wandering back and forth from the storage racks, she was just the anti-social, oddly knowledgeable librarian that liked the dark. If she was asked to describe herself, she would have said that she was plain, boring and "just a librarian." She thought she looked plain enough, except her dark ginger hair and dark green eyes. She was actually quite pretty, if not beautiful, but no one would ever actually tell her that. Along with her long, almost auburn, ginger hair, green eyes and freckles, she was also uncommonly pale. She rarely went out, and that was normally at night. She had red lips and a curvy figure. She had old muscle, but she didn't use it much these days. She suffered from headaches often, though most weren't from overuse, but under-use of her mind. She had this large aching hole is her psyche, some might even call her sick. She didn't mind it, though, no one really noticed anyway.

On occasion, she was asked to fill in at the front desk, to her discomfort. She liked working in the racks because it was secluded and if she worked fast enough, she could sneak in some reading. It was amazing what types of books you could find back there. Sadly, today was one of those days Maria had to work up front. Suzy, the other librarian that normally worked up front, had a "hot date". Apparently the man was some rich doctor, but from what Maria could see he was nothing but a gambler.

'_Poor Suzy,' _thoughtMaria. Though she didn't actually pity her. She had a problem with men and Maria had given her advice more than once. If she wasn't going to listen to Maria, then this is what she gets. Maria was known for being cold-hearted and logical but for some reason the librarians always asked her for advice. If she was feeling up to it she might give them some logical tid-bit, but it seemed like her statistical knowledge never mixed well with love.

Maria sighed and kept looking for the file she needed. Once she found it she took it into the back office and placed a card into it. She glanced out of the small window, glancing down a level at the people below. _'Look at all those people, interacting with each other. How in the world do they manage to do that so much? Why couldn't I stay in the back today?" _Maria thought bitterly. She didn't completely hate people, but with her past and experiences, she really didn't like talking with others. She looked over her shoulder back to the front desk.

'_First this, then they'll actually start assuming I like or am okay with talking to people.' _She really didn't need people interacting with her, the more people she talked to, the more likely her "personality quirks" would appear. She already had one friend; she didn't need any more fake ones. She hunched over a bit while leaning againced the office desk. She ran a tired hand through her ginger hair, sighing deeply. She wanted to be normal, and already a few workers and professors knew she was a bit off.

She was still able to hide her talents from people. She didn't want people see her observe and make connections, expirament or do anything crazy like before.

'_I just wan't'be normal, not sick... please, never like before.'_ To Maria Ashdown, the lonely librarian, her amazing abilities where like a curse, one that has haunted her since she was able to think and talk. It was drilled into her that what she did, how she acted and what she saw was unacceptable. She must be made to think like everyone else, because everyone else is always right. She was broken, and had been for a long time.

But for her, that was for the best.

xXx

Disclaimer for the whole story: (if I forget to put a disclaimer later)

I do not own Sherlock BBC or any of it's characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I do, however, own the created character respectively.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter I – A Day in the Life**

**xXx**

It was, uncommonly, a sunny day in central London. The air was crisp, but not unpleasantly so for a December's day. People where out and about in London, doing whatever they needed doing. At a particular library, students and professors walked past book upon book, researching and preparing for exams. They walked past a ginger librarian as she put books aside and tidied up the work desks. She lazily made her way around the large library. She would make her way form one row of shelves to another. She would appear on the first floor, then the offices, then in the kid's section. She would periodically make her way to the back racks where she would get more books, organize or puts books away. If anyone was actually observing her, they would say that Maria Ashdown knew this place by heart. And, in fact, she did.

At the moment, she was trotting back upstairs to go put a mechanics book away. Her tied up ginger hair bounced along as she made her way up the stairs. Her deep green eyes would glance around periodically, but apart from that Maria kept to herself. As she reached the top of the stairs, a young student came up to her, trying to get her attention.

"'Scuse me ma'am?" said the student while he juggled a few books. "Would you know where the Herbology and Horticultural sections are?" He was young, at the most 20 years old, had two dogs, worked for a living and went to college at night. Maria could see that he didn't see much sun, so he probably was working on the fungi plant experiments the nearby college was flaunting about recently. _'Grocery job...' _

Without really looking at him, she gave him the information;

"Section B2, dui 5280B to 6000B. If you are lookin' fer research on fungi, there's a good article on it in 'Farmer's Digest' in section C3."

The man gave her a confused look, thanked her, turned and rushed off. Maria made her way back down once finishing up her job upstairs. She made her way to the front desk's computer and sat down, logged in and started typing.

'_23 books misplaced. Why can't the accountants do their jobs properly?'_ Grumbled Maria, she hated going through file after file trying to track down some missing biography or such. Her eyes scanned file after encrypted file while she tried to locate any clues as to where the books where. Sighing to herself every time she hit a dead end, she tried to fight off the beginnings of a head ache. She wasn't in the best of moods today. Her flatmates where forever fighting with one another, she needed a raise and she was perpetually bored... not to mention the gaping hole in her hypothetical chest. Timothy Wu, an intern, took that same moment to stroll by.

"Hey M-Maria. Do you want some coffee or something? I'm going to lunch now so I can pick something up. Do you want to come with me? I-I... I mean us. They'll be more people..." He said nervously. Suzy swore that he was doting on Maria, but Maria wouldn't have anything to do with it. She didn't do "love" especially with someone like him. He was nice, but he was just mediocre and she knew that if he really knew what she was like he would get scared and run away. She grumbled internally, ice washing over her heart. Outside, though, she looked up from her work and gave him a small smile.

"Tea would be nice. Now please leave me alone." She said simply. Timothy Wu floundered a bit, nodded and rushed off. He seemed to have gotten the message.

'_Everyone seems to be rushing about today... none of them ever take the time to just stop and look.'_ Maria kept typing on her computer, occasionally sending an odd text to her one friend.

A few hours later, when the sun was almost setting and Maria was starting to pack up, a stranger approached the front desk.

"Dr. Maria Ashdown?" A low voice inquired in an even tone. Maria looked up from her work for a second, surprised that the stranger knew her doctor status. She hid it very well, but how did he know? She looked back down to her work, not paying that much attention.

"Aye, that's me. What d'yeh want." Maria kept typing, from what she could tell, the man was just a bit older that herself.

"I'm in a hurry. Recite "Greyson's stanza 12" The man said patronizingly. Apparently he had heard about her good memory. _'Who is he?' _ Though Maria nervously.

Maria though about giving him a curt answer about his rude behavior, but that would mean more effort on her behalf so she just sighed. Without looking up from her computer screen, she recited:

The river runs between two lines,

Sweepin' way the lost man's mind.

His thoughts swept inteh the ocean brine;

His killer was ever so kind.

She finally looked up properly from the screen at that stranger. He wore a black Belstaff coat with a dark blue scarf loosely flung over his neck. He had icy blue/green eyes and a mop of curly black hair. By anyone's standards he was handsome, though he did have an unapproachable air all around him. Maria knew she was staring a bit, but he was one of the most exciting things that have happened to her for a long time. She wanted to analyze him immediately. _'High cheek bones, cold eyes. Fashionable clothes that fit well on his figure. He runs a lot. He's smart, and he knows it. Doesn't'eh?_ Maria thought.

"Good, you are as good as they say..." The stranger said. No "thank-yous" or appreciations. At least Maria got half a compliment. As the strange man started to walk away he took out his phone and dialed.

"Lestrade...yes. If the body is not in the pool, check the river in the back. You'll find the head bobbing somewhere in the Thames. Check the bottoms of Pier 4." With that the stranger hung up. He turned a bit and stared at Maria while she stared back, almost dumbfounded. He sherpened his eyes and focused on Maria like he was thinking. He then opened mouth like he was about to speak. Before he said anything though, he decided better of it and closed his bow shaped mouth._ 'Did he want to ask me something?' _ Before she could think any more, the man left. Maria just sat there, slightly stunned. Had she just helped solve a crime? She looked outside and saw that even though it was evening, it was still relatively warm.

"Sociopath..." Maria murmured.

**-x-**

"Finally!" exclaimed Maria as she entered her flat. She threw up her coat onto the rack and slipped her shoes off. Running her hand through her tangled hair, she sighed inwardly.

"What, rough day?" said a voice from the kitchen. "Was that why you kept texting 'Save Me' or 'Help?'" The voice belonged to one of Maria's flat-mates; Victoria Decor, Maria's only friend. She was the only one that truly knew about Maria's mannerisms and quirks in all of London. She was also the only one to really care for Maria.

Since moving to London one and a half years ago, Maria had taken up residence with two flatmates. She would have preferred to live alone, but with her salary at the time she was glad she even got this flat. She was slowly saving up but found Victoria's presence like a gift she didn't really want to give up. She also didn't really know how to start the whole process of moving out.

Their other flatmate, Kate Yellings, was always out. She rarely spoke to either of them and if you looked, you would probably find her doing drugs. She was a photographer that was down on her luck, from what Maria could tell, and she had become hooked on cocaine.

"Kate's out again, don't even bother," said Victoria.

"Probably down in the 20th district. She better be careful, she's playing a dangerous game." Maria stopped to think a moment. "If she comes back with someone from there...I think I'll forget about my no-dissection policies." Said Maria ominously. Victoria new that it wasn't a threat, but a promise so she quickly changed the subject.

"Dinner?" Asked Victoria as she dished out some salad.

"What's for desert?"

"Tea and grapes. It's the only think in the fridge since _someone _forgot to go shopping."

Maria grimaced. She utterly and purely hated grapes. She would eat literally anything except grapes. They were small and sour and when dried they became all prune-y. They where a choking accident just waiting to happen, and, if done properly the extract of a grape can be used as a part of a fatal toxin. She knew because she had made it in the 8th grade.

"I'll pass on the desert then..."

Victoria laughed at that. She knew about most of Maria's earlier exploits.

"Next time pick up the shopping then, will you?"

"Bu' shoppin's so borin'! I can't flippin' work the chip machines an' everyone keeps starin' at me!" whined Maria a bit as she got her salad.

"Then don't go and pick up the rotten stuff at the bottom," said Victoria while going to get tea.

She was trying to contain her laughter but soon failed.

"Ha! You'll eat rotten tomatoes but you won't go two feet near a grape? What next, horses?"

"Oi, it's no'funneh! Th'damned grizzleh groven'bludeh theng's are gonna kill meh one day!" Exclaimed Maria, letting her brogue slide even more than usual. After a moment of though, she added in; "Horses are gonna get'meh too! The wild beasts..." When she was with Victoria, Maria knew that she didn't have to act like she did in public. She could relax and let things slide.

Trying to change the subject, Maria quickly asked Victoria about her day. She worked as a high class lawyer and spent most of her day running around trying to calm the rich and the paranoid.

"Same old, same old. Mr. Greyson wanted me to try and solve the dispute over his office in the suburban for most of the day. That's all..."

"That's all?" Asked Maria suspiciously. Victoria wasn't telling her something and Maria planned to find out. When people lied Maria could tell, depending on what the lie was. Victoria's eye twitched, and so did the corner of her mouth. It was something important and slightly related to Maria... but it also was something positive. The corner of someone's mouth normally twitched when they were trying to hide a smile. She grew still as she looked Victoria over. She was trying to hide something...

'_She has brick dust and plaster under her nails and on the hem of her skirt. A bit of pollen... and OH MEH GOSH SHE HAS A RING!' _ Victoria had been dating a man, Jeffrey Legzdins, for over a year now. _'He must have popped the question after they went out for a bit.'_

"What?" asked Victoria.

"Okay, first off. You weren't jus' in the suburban fer Mr. Greyson's stupi' office. Yer lookin' fer a house wi'Jeffreh, weren't ye? Oh... you _lass_! He proposed after going out fer coffee at yer favorite cafe."

Victoria flushed, knowing she had gotten it all right. A small 'eep' came from between her lips before she suddenly flung herself around the counter leaping with joy and grabbing a hold of Maria. Though Maria wasn't one for romance, she couldn't help but be happy for her best friend. They twirled around into the living room as the both did a little jig. Lucky for Victoria, Maria was Scottish and was an excellent dancer... when she wanted to be.

When they finally settled down, Maria got up and brought over their tea.

"This means you won't be living with us anymore, doesn't it?" She asked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I can't be with you anymore, but I really do love him. I would have given you more warning but I had no idea about it a few weeks ago, everything happened so fast. Please don't be mad."

"Why would I be mad? I was thinking of moving soon too. I've been saving up, you know."

"Really? I know you're a bit worried..." Victoria stared at Maria. She was hiding her emotions because even though she was truly happy for her little Vic, she still would miss her company. Even though she tried to be as icy as possible, Victoria saw right through it.

"Look, I'm gonna miss ye but it's yer life. I wasn't ever expectin' you to stay here forever. You're a successful lawyeh with a future husband. Really, I'm happy." Maria paused for a moment before continuing. "How 'bout tomorrow we go out fer lunch so I can properleh congratulate th'bride t'be? What'd'yeh say?"

Victoria started to tear up at that moment. Maria wondered how in the world someone could be so emotional, but decided it was just something that happened to normal people.

"Come now. No crying when I don't understand why. You'll have to help me move out too, y'know. Kate is going to be bludy mad wi' us though," at the thought, Maria began giggling hysterically. Victoria looked at her a bit weirdly before laughing along with her.

Once they settled down, Victoria turned on the television. Maria wasn't one for watching crap telly but still enjoyed the occasional science fiction. Luckily, BBC had marathons running all night. They spent the rest of the evening watching a Doctor Who marathon before Maria finally shouted;

"_I've Got Work Tomorrow_! Bludeh Daleks made meh fr'get!" Before running off to sleep, leaving a drowsy Victoria laughing hysterically on the couch.

**xXx**

**Author's Note: Guys! I'm really excited about this story. I will be updating maybe once a week, depending on my summer. I hope people will get into my story and maybe leave some reviews? Reviews help me know that people actually like and want more of my story so let's make a deal.**

**If I get 2 reviews per chapter, or so, after the third chapter is posted then I'll continue with the story. I might keep writing anyway, but I want to see how this goes first. **

**By the way, I've never written romance or anything to do with kissing so I'll try my best but...well... it might be awkward. We'll see... I still believe that romance is just a chemical reaction but I think I'll be able to copy it in a legitimate way when writing. That'll happen later, anyway.**

**Sorry, I'm just super happy right now.**

**Cheer,**

**Elleari**


	3. Chapter 2

**Authors note: **

**The next chapter doesn't have much action... not really anyway. Don't worry, I'll be getting into I wrote it so you can see a bit more of the emotional side. It's only chapter 2 so there isn't too much that I can reveal but still... I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are always appreciated. **

**And again, I don't own Sherlock BBC and so forth. **

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**

**Chapter II- The Howling Winds are all the Same**

**xXx**

A month passed with no real incident. Life was boring and tedious, always repeating in the same cycle. Victoria and her fiancé Jeffrey had found a flat near Hounslow and had already moved most of their things.

Maria kept searching but she just couldn't seem to find any good apartments; everything was either too expensive or just too small. She didn't think she was picky but she _really_ didn't want to live in a two room apartment in the middle of a bunch of loud neighbors. She had saved enough for at least a small apartment in the middle of London, which was saying something considering the prices these days.

And so, Maria found herself walking back from another failed real-estate meeting. With a coffee in one of her hands and papers in the other, she strode down the street. She felt slightly dejected, thinking of how she would probably have to live with Kate for the rest of her life. Though... that wasn't such a bad thing of late, since for the past week and a half the already elusive Kate Yellings had basically disappeared.

'_At least it saves me the trouble of trying to kick Kate out to get the apartment to myself... Though I did want'teh test those stinkers, shame realleh.' _ Maria knew she should be more concerned, but really she couldn't give a damn. Kate was never around and when she was she would eventually find herself arguing with Victoria. Maria was certain Kate was also scared of her; after first finding out about Maria's little "abilities" she could barely make eye contact. Even so, she really wasn't a bad person... just someone that Maria couldn't be bothered with anymore.

The few times Kate had come home during the month, which was maybe twice, she had looked extremely nervous, her eyes where now blood-shot and she had big bags under her eyes. Gladly, Victoria wasn't at home when she had entered the apartment; otherwise Maria would have had to stop another fight. _'Probably messed up with the drug districts and now she owes something...again.' _ Maria hoped Kate wouldn't ask Victoria for a loan; which almost never ended well. She herself had nothing to give, if she even would have.

'_Though, why in the world is Kate so nervous now? She's owed money before; to her it shouldn't be such a big deal..." _A thought came to Maria suddenly.

"What if she owes more now... too much..." If Kate had finally gotten buried in too much debt, what would that mean for her and Victoria? A shiver crawled up her side, _'I do __**NOT**__ wan'teh associate myself wi'those dealars...'_

As Maria finally got to the tube, a gust of wind suddenly swept through the trees. Even though the weather had shown hints at a warm spring, the temperature had soon decided to change. The days turned colder and colder and Maria began to wear a coat again.

She didn't mind that much though, she had grown up in the Scottish highlands. The cold comforted her, and sometimes when the wind blew through the buildings in a certain way, she would be reminded of home. The whistling between the concrete reminded her of the northern moors, the rocky landscape and the sound of the wind out at sea. The memories where mostly bad, but sometimes she would remember nicer things; like her dear old mother, huddling with her by the firelight during the winter. She was the only one who really cared for Maria in the whole village.

As each day passed Maria would gaze around the library and observe the occupants. Nothing ever seemed to change. The dark stranger never came back and it seemed like dear old Mr. White wouldn't be returning. _'Too bad... He seemed like a nice man. He was a regular but I don't think he was a professor...' _Though Maria blankly. The gaping hole she felt seemed larger than ever before, especially now with Victoria moving out. She was concerned about what was happening to Kate but she couldn't do anything about it anyway. Nothing seemed to interest her anymore; nothing was really worth her time.

-x-

After hours spent in the racks and the back rooms of the library, it was finally time for Maria to head home. She slowly made her way to the tube while the wind blew her hair around crazily. The city seemed to be falling asleep along with the sun set, Maria couldn't really blame it. She was dead tired, her feet where killing her and it was starting to get cold. She didn't even glance at the setting sun that could be seen scarcely behind the tall gray buildings.

When she got home she plopped her things down on the table and made her way to her room. She didn't ever register that Kate had come home. She did, however, hear Victoria arguing with her. Sighing, she ran her hand through her messy ginger hair and entered her room. She couldn't be bothered at the moment.

'_There is nothing of interest for me out there, on earth, at all,' _stated Maria to herself in her head. She plopped down on her bed and stared at the wall. She knew she was being childish but she couldn't care less. With "mummy" and "drunken daddy" bickering out in the living room, Maria slowly snuck out of the room and went to go take a shower.

The water was almost therapeutic as it ran down her figure. It beat down the grime from the city with a rhythm that Maria could just barely make out.

She stayed in there until the water ran cold. _'It's their fault for fighting all of the time and not paying attention...' _Victoria would be mad at her using all the warm water up, but what should she care? It's not like Victoria would be living with Maria for much longer.

The cold water was refreshing, but thinking about being left alone suddenly made Maria remember. Remember one of the many memories she tried to repress;

_The cold water slammed down on a young girl's head. Snickering and laughter came from a third story window of the new school. The little girl seethed while she tried to dry herself off, but it was futile. She would have to go home wet._

_The sun was already setting and her father would be furious if she wasn't home soon. Laugher came from all directions as a few young voices called "Monster! MONSTER!" or "Freak!" from the sidelines. The little girl with the flaming red hair walked on in silence. _

_She opened the door quietly and snuck in. She had to get to her room as quick as she could so her father wouldn't see her. Her mother was on another business trip so she couldn't find comfort in her. _

_She was almost at the bedroom door when her father called;_

"_**CHILD! **__GEH'DOWN 'ERE NAOW!" _

_The little girl rushed down as quick as she could, forgetting her sullied clothes. She knew that tone... he was furious...mad even. As she turned the corner to the kitchen, his father saw her and a dark look crossed his face._

"_Naow wha'ave yea done? Yea piece of __**trash**__! Ge'in yer clothes all dirteh! __**Come'ere. The willow whip fer yea!**__" _

_He loomed over the little girl. She coward in the corner... but there were no emotions in her face. The neighbors called her the little daemon because no matter how much she was beaten she would just take it and then go on being weird. They would find sliced up frogs, pieces of hair and boiled fish under the nearby bridge where the girl could be seen most days. She hid everything she did; only showing it to her mother sometimes. Even so, everyone knew what she could do, no matter how much she hid it. _

"_Mother isn't 'ere now, is sheh?" Asked her father._

"_No, sir. She is not 'ere." The little girl answered._

"_Well than, ye've been a bad girl, 'aven't yea?" Her father moved in closer, holding a bundle of old, dried, willow twigs. The little knew what was about to happen, it had happened over and over again for a very long time. He hated her because of how her brain was wired... everyone did. As her father raised his arm menacingly, the little girl braced down, not really knowing what else to do. _

Maria let out a terrible gasp. Her body shook with the memories. Reeling back, she hit the shower's wall while trying to grab something to hold onto. She didn't cry, she didn't wail, she just gasped for air, trying to forget and repress the memory she had just seen. Trembling, she silently stared at her shaking hands. She slid down the shower, cowering in the corner. She rarely remembered her childhood, let alone these types of moments, but when she did she could barely function. The only way for her to survive is to repress her childhood, but on occasion it just wasn't enough.

Maria sat in the shower, naked, cold and wet. If she looked hard enough the scars would still be there, faded away by time. She tentatively reached back past her shoulders, feeling the old bumps of rough scratches. Flinching a bit, she let her hand drop and lay limp next to her body. She glanced down at her thigh, where a different type of scar lay. It was deeper and more prominent, yet it had nothing to do with her childhood. She shook her head, trying not to remember anything about _that_ time. After a few moments she slowly reached up and turned off the shower.

For at least another half hour she just sat there, trying to figure things out.

'_This is what I get for thinking too much. I-I... I should do SOMETHING... I know! I'll get another job! Something that makes me think of stupid things so I won't have time to ever think of anything else! Or... no, no dates.'_

Eventually she calmed down and dried off. She brushed out her messy hair and changed into some old pyjamas. She made her way out of the bathroom and down the hall. Right as she got to her bedroom a voice rang out from the living room.

"May? Maria? Are you there?" It was Victoria. She had finished arguing and had kicked Kate out of the flat. She had heard Maria come out of the bathroom and had wondered why she had taken so long. She sat on the couch with some tea in her hand, not really knowing if she should go check up on her.

"Yes, I am here. I'm going to bed now. Good night." Maria responded quickly, controlling her voice as best she could. The hall was dark and she really didn't want Victoria to see her.

"Alright then... Good night." After a moment, though, Victoria asked "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

Victoria knew how Maria hated it when she and Kate had fights. Maria was a strong woman but she still had soft spots.

'_It's hard to see them, isn't it? With her impenetrable armor... so to speak" _Though Victoria.

Silence followed for a moment until Victoria finally heard Maria's bedroom door open.

"...I'm fine." Was the only answer she got from the dark hallway.

xXx


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter III- The Universe Started with a Big Bang**

**xXx**

After a few hours of sleep Maria was awoken by someone rocking her back and forth. A voice slowly crept into her consciousness.

"May! May! Maria! Turn your damned clock off, the ticking is killing me!" said the voice.

Maria slowly awoke and groggily rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She saw a figure against the dark wall of her room. Blinking a couple of times, she finally was able to see that the voice belonged to Victoria.

"Ahh... I changed my clock to a digital one weeks ago," said Maria sleepily, pointing to her bedside table. Red light shone in the form of digital numbers. '3:38am" it read.

"Then... who's is it then?"

Maria didn't respond immediately as she ran though the different possibilities. Her mind was slow from sleep and it took her a moment to kick start it.

"May, what if it's someone trying to break in?"

"Mmm, unlikely..."

Her old clock was the only one in the house with gears that could be heard. She had changed it recently because Victoria was complaining about how she couldn't sleep with it. She had been going through a tough court case and really needed the sleep.

Maria slowed down to listen in on the noise. Just as Victoria had said, there it was; the ticking. _'No new clocks where changed of bought recently. What could make that noise? Twig against the window... no, it's too consistent. A timer would fit the description, but a timer for what?' _As she listened to the soft ticking, possibilities ran through her head. _'The ticking is digital and it's coming from a small instrument. There isn't anything covering it... but something below it.' _The ticking was definitely from inside the flat, the sound waves could only carry so far.

Images of the possibilities flashed in front of Maria's vision. Sadly, one of the more disliked options seemed to be becoming more and more plausible. Shaking herself, Maria got up and threw a sweater on.

She started to trace the ticking noise all the way to an old room near the back of the apartment. It was technically Kate's but it had never been used. The land lord had told them that it was "on the house" since it was connected to their flat anyway.

Victoria followed closely, a bit confused with what was happening. Maria was not a happy person when she was woken from her slumber, but this seemed to be a new reaction. She looked curious, if not excited. After hours of barely sleeping, Victoria had heard the noise start. It was odd but in her groggy state she just assumed that it was Maria's clock. Now, thinking it over, she regretted acting on it. _'What if it _is_ some burglar?" _

When Maria got to the old room's door, she held up a hand indication Victoria to stay where she was. From her sweater's pocket, she drew out a small kitchen blade. She had a habit of randomly leaving the small knife in her pockets since she never really knew when she would need it. What could she say? Once a soldier always a soldier. From the comment, she suddenly tensed up. _'That's right, I was a soldier... I killed people...'_

She had been put into the army a few years ago, about two years after she had graduated secondary school. It was a long story that she didn't want to think about at the moment, but basically after failing in medical school she was drafted to the army so she could at least become an army doctor. She had been sent off into the war soon after. Though, apparently her father had also had an agenda for her.

She shook her head, this wasn't the time for another one of her flashbacks.

Maria opened the door slowly, letting the moonlight flood into her vision. When her eyes adjusted, she saw it. Saw it all.

Kate Yellings lay dead, a gun in one hand with a bullet hole piercing her head. Red blood flowed from the wound, staining the ratty white carpet. The light green wall to the left was splattered with her blood, forming shapes and patterns. Though, what struck Maria as the most important detail in the scene was the semtex strapped to the limp corpse. The source of the ticking sat at the very top like a king on his deadly throne. _'So i'was a timer, t'was right.' _Thought Maria, bemused.

She knew that the situation was dire and if she didn't move soon they would both die, yet she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and adrenaline. She wasn't a civilian, she was a soldier. A soldier trained to be doctor, but none the less a soldier.

'_This was obviously a murder... but she killed herself. What would that make it then?'_

"What's in there? Maria?" Asked Victoria, curious as to why Maria had frozen up. The question snapped Maria out of her thinking, realizing she had to protect her friend.

'_... Oh, right, the bomb.' _Maria backpedaled out the door, mumbled to Victoria and grabbed her hand.

"What is it!" Victoria asked hurriedly as she was dragged along. Gladly Victoria had decided to act on the ticking early so there was about five minutes left until the building went 'BOOM!'

"Grab all you can and meet me here in a minute!" yelled Maria.

"What?"

"**SEMTEX BOMB**!"

Victoria froze and stared at the room Maria had just checked.

"THE TICKING NOISE WAS A BOMB?"

"YES NOW STOP YELLING AND GET YER THINGS!" called Maria from the other room.

"You're the one who started it! At least it should have woken the neighbors."

Victoria grabbed a few things and shoved them into a suitcase. Most of her things where already at the new flat so she didn't have to worry too much.

'_But what about Maria? All of her things are here... everything... her memories.' _thought Victoria sadly at the realization. As she exited her room, she saw Maria and they met up in the living room. She too had a small bag full of a few essentials, money, computer and keepsakes.

They both ran out of the flat and down the stairs. 2 minutes and 30 seconds remaining.

"Wait! What about everyone else!" called Victoria. Maria just stared at her blankly while running along the corridor, not really understanding the statement. It wasn't that she didn't realize that people's lives were at stake other than theirs, she just didn't seem to care at the moment. She had been so focused on saving Victoria she had forgotten to care about the other occupants of the building. _'I'm getting rusty at this protecting thing, aren't I?'_ She thought as the words finally sunk in.

"The fire alarm was back the way we came. I'll be right back!" said Maria, about to turn back.

"No! Look, I'll go. We don't have enough time." Victoria pushed past Maria before she could stop her. She wouldn't let anything happen to Maria, no matter what.

"Be back in 46 seconds and you'll be okay. Don't be any later, understand!" Maria struggled with herself, not knowing what to do. She didn't want to let her go, especially since she was more important, but she couldn't stop her. Victoria was stubborn and would have the advantage of actually having a head start. The least she could do was give her the calculated time she would need to be able to escape.

"Take the fire exit, I'll be fine. Okay? 46 seconds, no problem." And with the Victoria turned and continued running down the corridor.

Checking her surroundings, Maria ran as fast as she ever had. Her bag clunked along next to her as she manoeuvred down the hall, trying to find the fire escape window.

Even though she was in an extremely dangerous situation, her mind was cold and clear while she thought about who could plant that bomb. The 20th district drug dealers came to mind immediately and Maria gave a low growl.

'_Those bloodeh buggerin' bastards.' _A sort of madness came bubbling up from the pit of her stomach. She hadn't felt like this since she was introduced into the army and forced to watch good men die. How the drug district could endanger so many people for a simple loan was beyond her. Then again, apparently it wasn't a stretch.

At last she reached the fire escape window and quickly climbed through. She ran down the steps quickly, jumping down from the last few. Finally she hit the ground and rolled. She stumbled to pick herself up before running a few more paces.

Suddenly she heard a shattering explosion as all hell broke loose. The bomb had finally gone off, and not a moment too soon.

Glass and debris flew everywhere, striking Maria in the back and in the arm a bit. She felt the sting of the shooting debris but ignored it. She raced to the front of the building, not really knowing if everyone had gotten out or not. She saw a family and few more people huddling close, scared out of their wits. From Maria's estimation, not everyone had gotten out in time. There where people still trapped and some probably dead.

A fire had started in the building next to the explosion. The bomb had held more semtex that she had estimated, a lot more. Their whole level was destroyed, along with the one above and the ones below. The whole place was on fire and gas leaked everywhere. Pipes where torn completely apart and the infrastructure was about ready to collapse. Soon enough Maria could hear sirens approach from the distance.

Looking around franticly, Maria couldn't see the one thing that mattered right now. She could not see Victoria.

As the realization hit her, everything rushed back at Maria and she felt dizzy. She was tired from running with a heavy bag, had blood loss and scratches all around her body and now her emotional state was crumbling. Hearing screams from the people in front of her as the building started to collapsed, she looked up to the sky. In her mind she heard gunshots, more screams, tanks and yelling. She could smell the blood of the wounded as the moaned in pain. What was happening to her? Why was everything suddenly being torn apart and turned upside down? She just wanted to be left alone.

Wavering, her vision blurred and she collapsed in the street.

xXx

**Author's note:**

**Well, there's some action for you. I hope you like it, but I'm not sure. Feedback is always appreciated. Maria's back-story is a bit confusing right now but that's how it's supposed to be. For the past 2 years she's been living as normally as possible. But now after the mysterious stranger talked to her, she's been feeling more and more horrible. Her mind works about the same as Sherlock's so basically right now it's rotting. And then she's suddenly thrown into this big mess and memories start to come up. Her past will be explained fully soon enough in a nice little recap thing.**

**Spoilers!**

**Oh, and recently I was reading through the previous chapters when I suddenly saw a bunch of grammatical mistakes. I'm so ashamed! I'm not normally this careless, but then again, normally I'm writing for school. I'll probably go and look through the chapters eventually but for now I'll just keep going. Apologies for any other mistakes I might have in the future, I'll fix them soon. **

**Cheers, **

**Elleari**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV – Aftermath is only the beginning **

**xXx**

The world around Maria Ashdown was now in complete chaos. The world spun and colors blurred together while she tried to focus. She had awoken in the back of an ambulance that was still parked next to the ruined buildings. People where mulling around but she couldn't care less. The first thing Maria thought was once again _'Victoria?'_

She lay on a stretcher, a light shone into her eyes while a little device took her blood pressure. A blanket covered her but she was still in her own clothes. Looking around, she decided that is was no use just lying down. Struggling to get up, she made her way to the open back of the ambulance, grabbing a shock blanket for warmth. She felt disorientated and decided that it would be better to have a sit before she tried something too risky.

Apparently while she was out, the medics had bandaged up her wounds. She checked the wrappings and tried to move her wrapped up arm. Wincing in pain, she thought she better just give up and sit silently for now.

Eventually a middle aged man approached her. He had a bit of silver in his hair but apart from that didn't really have any outstanding features Maria could catalogue. Maria figured he was a part of the police, her suspicions confirmed when she saw his badge swing out from his coat pocket. Apparently he was a detective.

"Hello ma'am, how are you feeling?" He asked kindly, feeling sympathetic.

"Oh, I'm fine. Barely escaped an explosion, but apart from that..." she quipped sarcastically. The detective seemed to ignore the comment and continued.

"You are Dr. Maria Ashdown, correct? You work at Wellcome Library, near Euston Station?" She nodded in compliance. "I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade of the Scotland Yard." The name registered for Maria but she couldn't quite place it. She was so disorientated that she was amazed she could still talk coherently.

'_So D.I Lestrade... he works homicide.' _ That would mean the bombing was more complicated then she had initially thought. She still believed that this was something to do with the drug dealers...but why do all of this for a bloody loan?

"You where in the flat where the bomb was found, yeah?" asked Lestrade.

"Yes, I was in the flat. My flatmate, Kate Yellings, took her life and was strapped to the bomb. She shot through the right temple and the bullet exited through the left side. She used a Beretta 92 pistol, from point blank. Sh-She used some sort of varied bullet though... it was much more powerful than the normal calibers... I-I-It probably broke the gun after f-firing." Maria started to stutter, her mind was slipping back and she had to regain control.

"Dr. Ashdown, are you okay? How do you know all this?" Lestrade was amazed that she could figure it all out in her state; she was registered as an army doctor but still.

"I-I... You'll see it once you go in and check whatever is left. I saw the scene for about 10 seconds so I-I..uh...I figured it out. There was blast powder around the entry point, an- and..." Maria gulped and steadied herself. Now was not time to be afraid of the D.I, he wasn't going to judge.

"10 seconds? You saw that all in 10 seconds?" Maria winced back. _'Or not... never assume that people will be nice... that's your first mistake, Maria. You should know this by now.' _She scolded herself silently. Lestrade must have seen the reaction and immediately tried to reconcile.

"Oh, no, no- It's just that I know a man who is similar. Ah...uh, continue please. Any information will help with the investigation." Maria, out of relief or out of the fact that she was slowly losing her mind, giggled hysterically at the rhyme.

"Alright, yes... She was a drug addict. Cocaine, I think. She got her fixes from the gangs... the most recent was from the 20th District. She was having money problems for the last... 3 months. She'd ask fer a loan from us... me an' meh other flatmate Victoria. Victo..." She shuddered a bit, realising she still needed to find her. Her brogue was slowly coming back, along with the odd anger she had felt earlier.

"Sh'needed loans. Some'n teim recentleh she must'ave gotten too deep inteh th'system. I dunno how bad it was bu'naow! She go'too deep! Too Deep. **STUPID!** Noaw We've Go'Teh Suffar Fer It! An' Naow VICTORIA'S LOST AND I NEEDED TEH PROTECT 'ER! **WHERE IS SHEH!**" Maria was losing it, she needed Victoria to be here, she needed to know she was safe. She was the last linking her to normality at the moment.

"**WE'WHERE VICTIMS!**" she cried out, tears starting to leak out from her closed eyes.

This was all too much. She hadn't asked for this, she didn't deserve this after all she did to be like everyone else.

"Ma'am!" called Lestrade, trying to calm the shaken woman if front of him. _'Poor girl...'_

"Victoria Lana Decor is in the emergency section in a safe hospital! We found her in the rubble but she'll be fine. Please calm down!" pleaded Lestrade. Maria was struggling against the bright orange blanket, making it drop down next to her. When she heard the news she froze, thinking it over.

'_I need teh see'er... bu'at least she's okay.'_ Once she calmed down Lestrade tried to put the blanket back on her, only to have Maria ignore her.

"Sorry..." Maria flinched away from Lestrade who was trying to do his best at comforting her.

"It's all right. You've had a tough night. You've given us more than enough information to start out search. We've been trying to link up the gangs to these crimes for ages and now you've given us solid proof!" said Lestrade cheerfully, clapping his hands together.

Maria nodded absently. By now she was looking around the scene, taking in the surroundings fully since she had woken up. There were three more ambulances and five police cars, two fire engines where putting out the fire the bomb had started.

Medics and firefighters were trying to pull out people from the rubble. Not much further there was a row of stretches, men and women moaning on them in pain. Next to that was a row of covered bodies. _'The deceased...' _

She gazed around while people filtered in and out of her vision, and there, next to a sandy haired man, was the "Belstaff man." Same as when she had first seen him; with his messy black hair, gloved hands and calculating eyes. He was talking to some officers, trying to get them to do something, apparently. The sandy haired man moved in to try to explain, but was cut off when the man suddenly jumped into action. Though it was too far away for Maria to tell, she had seen one of the officers tell the man something. The next thing she knew, the coated man was waltzing towards her and Lestrade.

When he got to where they were standing, he seemed to completely ignore her as he immediately jumped into talking with Lestrade. Maria was perfectly happy to be ignored; she could eavesdrop easier that way.

"Lestrade, do you have any evidence I can look at yet? Any bodies?" asked the dark man.

"No, not yet! They're still trying to put out the fire... we'll be lucky to get anything tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on! Can't they get any slower!" the man argued, annoyed at the incompetence.

"Shut up. A building just exploded because of some murder scheme, there's nothing left by now. Look, do you have anything? Any idea of how this happened? Anything odd?"

Maria could swear that the odd man's eyes twinkled with the chance to explain.

"This was obviously a murder. From the reports the victim took her life and strapped herself to the bomb. In reality, though, she was forced into this. I looked into the rubble; there are traces of drugs and residue in the area where the original victim's room would have been."

Lestrade just stared at him blankly, not really understanding what was happening. He got the fact about the bombing but he didn't get why the man was so riled up about it. Maria sat behind them, listening carefully and not making a sound, the man was onto something.

"Oh, Lestrade, don't you see! If the victim's murderers, which where the drug dealers, wanted her just dead they could have simply shot her. They wanted to kill as many people as they could! This was just like the last killing. The drug dealers had one target but wanted to kill more than one person at the scene."

"'_Like the last killing?' That would mean that this is an ongoing thing! Oh my god...' _Thought Maria silently, realizing that the man had just connected this...killing spree... to some other happenance. She remembers what Lestrade said. _'So they've been following these things for a while.' _

"Some drug gangs have a system called the 'life = quality' system. If this Yellings girl had taken on too much debt the gang must have finally decided to make her pay back. But what she took out... it was apparently considered more valuable that just one human life, so they decided to take more. She must have gotten into their system... stupid girl." The man explained.

"What I still cannot figure out though, why cash in all the debts now? All of a sudden, at once." For the first time since meeting this man, Maria finally saw confusion on his face.

"How many ideas have you got?" Asked Lestrade, trying to get as much information.

"Ten so far..." The man glanced over, his eyes finally landing upon Maria. She could swear that recognition flashed through his eyes, soon enough covered up by indifference.

"Maybe four..." said the man before addressing Maria.

"You, you lived with the victim, correct? Where did she go for her fix? I've narrowed it down but with minimal information even _I_ can't figure it all out." Maria huffed a bit; he really did have an ego.

"She was an addict, cocaine from what I gather. But she must have gotten something more expensive recently... high quality bath salts?" He was adressing Maria but she only realised that he was talking to her a moment later.

"I, uh... didn't pay that much attention to the details. I... forgot them after a while, but yeah, she was a cocaine addict. S-she was dealing with a specific group recently. I-I don't know about the salts though..." Maria mumbled before continuing, the night was really wearing her out.

"It... uh. 20th...District. It was the 20th District. Ninth division I think, down by Kennington Park."

"Mmm..." The man said thoughtfully. He really was a sociopath, that's for sure.

By his knowledge of the underground drug bands, he probably was once an addict as well.

'_University days?' _though Maria. _'At least it looks like he's given up on it.'_

"But... what? Ur, wait, who are you? What is going on? Is there some larger scheme I should know about?" Maria asked. She was very tired and she could feel her eyes dropping as she spoke. Her left arm felt horrible and she hated the feeling of drugs in her system.

"It doesn't concern you. The investigation should be done by the end of the week. I work with the police, that's all." The man answered as he started to turn away, nodding at Lestrade.

"Please..." Maria murmured, hoping that the man could even hear her. He was the last thing she could cling on from her normal life. From before this whole accident started... she knew that living with a druggy would be no good.

Normal. She had spent years defying it, then being crushed by it until finally accepting it. Maria needed it now and 'normal' had just abandoned her. She needed to fall back on something, she could already feel her mind speeding up and slipping away.

The man glanced up at her, surprised at her tone. He had never heard that tone used with him, almost begging but a bit softer. She was nothing to him, he didn't care, but oddly enough he decided to oblige. When would he ever see her again anyway, she was nobody.

"Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective for the Scotland Yard." The man with the black coat, Mr. Holmes, said after a look of pity.

He then turned around and walked back briskly to the shorter, sandy haired man.

"Thank you..." She whispered, her lips twitching as a smile tried to break out.

She soon became stoic, but in the inside she was thinking everything over.

'_So, his name was Sherlock Holmes and he solved crimes. He is definitely one interesting man...'_ Maria really didn't know how complicated this case would be though. He looked like he could handle it. And she knew that he would. Even though she could immediately tell he was a very cold and logical man, he had a passion in him. She would trust him for now.

She probably shouldn't bother with the case anymore, he could hand it and it really didn't involve her. It was just bad luck that she and Vict...

"VICTORIA!" Maria yelled suddenly, startling Lestrade and some nearby officers. A nurse came around with some soapy tea for her, trying to get her to calm down again.

"Come along then, Ms. Victoria Decor is in the hospital emergency section. You'll have to spend the night at the hospital anyway, so...uh... don't worry." Said the nurse distractedly, glancing at her clock.

"Sorry about the date night." Maria said apologetically.

"What? How?" the nurse started.

"The lipstick, and the fact that your uniform's shoe covers are inside out. Quick rush, wasn'it? Yer a pretty lass working in a Friday night, highleh irregular." said Maria, not really paying attention to what she was doing anymore. Her mind was working faster and faster, firing electrical messages through her synapses.

She needed something normal. She couldn't fall into the pattern again. Not without Victoria.

Maria followed the nurse into the ambulance as the girl tried not to stare.

The ambulance passed by street after street, lights flashing in and out of the vehicle. There was no rain, nothing special to this night but Maria knew that a couple of blocks back stood a war zone. For the first time in a long time Maria finally saw things as they were. London was a warzone and, against everything she was taught, she wanted back in. Maybe not right now, but soon enough.

As they drove, Maria soon fell asleep. The muffled noises of the busy streets lulling her finally into slumber. She clutched her few belongings as tightly as possible, not wanting for everything to disappear.

xXx

**Author's note: Well then. That's done. Let's start to get into the plot more... a bit more anyway. Maria finally met Sherlock so that's good, well, properly anyway. This is the start to Maria's story, basically establishing a character basis and so forth. And yeah, she's homeless now. I wonder where she'll move too. Apart from Maria and Victoria, there will be probably a few more (3-4?) new characters I created that will be a part of Sherlock's little 'gang,' so to speak. That's a bit later on though. **

**Reviews and Feedback are always appreciated.**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari **


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter V – Need a Hand?**

**xXx**

Maria awoke in a hospital bed, as to be expected. She didn't remember moving after falling asleep in the ambulance so the nurse must have rolled her in on the stretcher. _'How nice of them...' _Thought Maria groggily, feeling the effects of the sedatives she was given ware off.

She stared at the white ceiling, tracing patterns and watching the shadows. The telly was on, the news talking about the explosion from last night.

Maria had no desire to hear about that horrible night so she turned her head to look out of window, towards the right, trying to tune everything out. It was just past lunch but all you could see outside was storm clouds and a few trees.

Gazing around the room, Maria's eyes fell onto a pair of legs covered by a blanket in the bed beside her. The minimal light from the window streamed down on them when suddenly one leg moved to scratch the other.

Maria recognized the habit immediately, throwing back the separation curtain that had concealed the rest of the body from view.

There, reading a book was Victoria. Maria was instantly flooded with relief as she felt her shoulders relax. A small laugh escaped from between her lips, sounding more like a sigh.

"You are one of the most stupid persons I have ever met. Pulling a stunt like that, wha'where ye thinkin'?" asked Maria, patronizingly.

"I save people now. This stuff just happens, you know." replied Victoria, a smirk on her face.

"Shut up." Was the only thing Maria could get out, she was laughing too hard. Eventually her lungs began to hurt and she coughed violently. She moaned in pain as she felt the cuts she had stretch and move too much. She figured that she must have breathed in too much smoke from the explosion and now it was irritating her lungs. _'But Victoria was found in the middle of the rubble, I shouldn't be complaining.' _Maria told herself. This was no time to be selfish; her friend was the one with the worst injuries.

"Hey, are you okay?" asked Victoria, worried.

"Fine, I'm fine."

Victoria smiled sweetly and went to reach out to Maria with her left hand. She suddenly stopped when at the end of her arm was nothing but a stump wrapped in bandages.

Victoria had lost her hand.

A sad look of resignation crossed her face. She was still used to having the hand there; she hadn't even remembered it was gone. At least she didn't lose the whole arm; it looked like it was shredded when she had awoken under the rubble.

Maria reached out and took the stump in her own hand and held it lightly, not wanting to hurt her friend.

"At least you can still read you stupid old romance books, right?"

Victoria had to laugh at that. She was a hopeless romantic and she couldn't help but read all those books.

"Mmm... but all our books are gone. If you remember correctly, there was a bomb in our house." Maria smirked at that, she made it sound like such a small detail.

"At least some of my belongings are in the new flat. You... you don't have a home right now, don't you?" Victoria finished, a sad look on her face.

"I'll be fine. Remember, I was already looking for one." Maria decided not to tell her that the search was basically a failure, it didn't seem to help the predicament.

"Here, it's an ad from a newly renovated apartment. It's in your price range and is actually not that far away from the library. You can grab the tube, it's only one stop away _and _if you want you can walk through Regent Park on a nice day!" Victoria said while handing over a news paper from her table.

"The address was 221a Baker Street, I think. It's a simple flat and it's pretty cheap. It's in the attic and apparently the neighbors are a bit of a fuss. They're shouldn't be a problem though, you can easily ignore them." She said while Maria read the article. When she finished she went to pull out her phone, bringing up a map of London to see where Baker Street was.

"Best call soon. I think I like the place... I don't have much choice anyway. Sooner th'bettar, eh?

Victoria giggled.

"I'll still be in the hospital for a while longer but I heard you could go whenever." She stopped and looked over to Maria.

"I know you'll be fine, I will be too. Jeffrey's coming over later to check up on me." She paused a moment, thinking of what to say. Maria sat there at attention, knowing that Victoria was trying to be serious.

"Keep in touch, understood? Don't go off on your own again; it's not good for you. And... Maria? Normal isn't always good. If you find the right people to spend your life with then it won't matter if you're broken, or a genius." Maria looked at her, a bit in shock. She had learnt not to trust anyone, that was for best... right?

"I'll tell you when I finally find some people like that..." Maria said quietly, trying to stop Victoria from continuing. She had looked when she was younger; she had tried to find someone that could help her, who could sympathize. She had failed miserably.

"Maria! Look, just don't force it away! It's eating at you from the inside; your beautiful brain is rotting. There might be people just like you, just look. Please, promise me that if you find an opportunity to be accepted, take it and never let go. Who knows, you might even find some love."

Maria chucked at that. She had given up on love for a while now; it's useless and no one would love someone like her.

Victoria looked at her sadly; she had given up on such a good thing. No one should ever give up something like love, but there she was... cold and unrelenting to anyone that tried to get near.

She knew Maria like no one else. When they first became flatmates, Maria didn't talk to anyone, didn't interact and barely did anything outside of work. Victoria had almost thought that she was a mute until one day Victoria had finally convinced Maria to go shopping with her. They had gone to some of those posh city boutiques, hoping to find something classy for a business interview or other.

They where shopping and Maria had started to open up a bit when Victoria had come out in a ridiculous dress. Maria had tried not to laugh but finally couldn't take it anymore and burst out laughing.

Victoria soon decided to make more trips to cinemas and other events. Soon enough they had built up a friendship of sorts. Victoria would babble on and Maria would listen, trying to keep up with all the gossip she would spew.

From that link they made, Victoria had started to help Maria open up to other people. Victoria had discovered early on that Maria had once been a doctor, but only after Maria had started telling her about her past did Victoria find out that she was a soldier. It made sense, a huge reason as to why Maria hadn't spoken or opened up to anyone at the beginning was because she was still acclimatized to war. She was a soldier stuck in a civilian surrounding with no way out.

Then one day Victoria had dragged Maria to a new boutique that had opened up. Victoria was trying on a lovely dress when a worker started to patronize Victoria. Maria was also targeted, getting nasty looks from the woman. She seemed to be very superficial and kept telling Victoria things like 'you shouldn't have let yourself go' or 'I don't think this place is suited for you.'

Finally, after the interaction started to escalate, Maria snapped.

_The woman stood behind Victoria while she looked at a particular shirt. She gazed at her and suddenly whispered,_

"_Dear, that would look horrible on you. Let someone else have it, you probably can't even pay for it."_

_Victoria froze at that, tears welling up in her eyes, she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to leave yet, she didn't want to ruin the day for Maria, but she just couldn't take it anymore. Maria was so shy and she hated that she had to even be close to someone like that woman._

_Suddenly the woman reached out to Victoria, trying to snatch the shirt from her. Instead of even coming near her though, the woman yelped out in pain and shock._

_Maria had had enough. She had tried to protect Victoria as best she could without revealing herself, but obviously she couldn't do anything. Negative verbal interaction was always more severe that positive. She had just looked up from looking at the pretty trinkets when she saw the interaction. When she saw Victoria, the wonderful woman who had helped her so much, on the brink of tears, she broke._

_She rushed at the woman before she could even touch Victoria, grabbing her arm and twisting it back and locking it. She placed her leg strategically so that she could take down the pitiful woman in seconds. _

"_WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" yelled the woman, attracting the attention of the other worker. The shop was small and there weren't any other shopper except Maria and Victoria. A few passer-by's looked into the window only to quickly dismiss whatever was going on, continuing on obliviously. _

"_Show some respect, we are paying customers." Said Maria darkly, lowering her voice._

"_This is assult!"_

"_This is a soldier protecting her friend. I have the right to defend against anyone that is attacking us, physically or psychologically."_

_Eventually the other worker came over, trying to find out what was happening._

"_This woman has been verbally attacking my friend over here. We have tried to act dignified but she was about to become physical."_

"_Leave this store at once!" ordered the woman._

"_Now, now. Is this true?" it seemed that the other worker was the woman's superior._

"_No! I didn't say anything!"_

"_Liar!" sneered Maria, taking Victoria's hand and dragging her over to her side. Trying to comfort her the best she could._

"_She has been verbally abusing my friend from the start. It's easy to see why. Her skirt has been hemmed twice, refitted and is quite old. Her wedding ring is old, too old...and her other jewels are cheap. She has recently lost weight and is in financial trouble, if her manicure is any sign._

_She is less toned, shorted and older than Victoria. She has acne scars on her legs that she tries to hide but it's obvious that she is using too much make up to cover it. It's easy to tell that she is jealous of Victoria and so needs to insult her. She is in great stress and her husband is cheating on her... also, by the lottery clippings in your shoes, you're both gamblers." stated Maria blandly._

_She wasn't very good at giving deductions from materials and everyday life, but she tried her best. It would hurt the woman and give proof to what she did. The older worker just stared at her, trying to make sense of it all._

"_Cheating?" yelled the woman, outraged._

"_Obviously, check your bra lining next time. It has traces of make up from a different maker. There is also a hair that doesn't belong to you or your husband._

"_You LITTLE BI-" started the woman, lunging at Maria._

"_Enough! Get to the back so I can deal with you." Ordered the other employee, turned out he was actually the owner of the establishment._

"_Forgive her; she does not reflect the general employee quality."_

"_She better not, be glad I don't sue!" said Victoria, standing up straighter and giving the man her card. She was, after all, a lawyer. They both swiftly left the store, rushing down the street._

Maria had soon broken down, not used to showing herself. She begged for forgiveness, she didn't want to 'bad' she just wanted to help. Back then Maria believed in one thing for certain; her abilities and personalities where horrible and disgusting and should not be shown or used in public. She still believed it, but Victoria reminded her enough that she wasn't a freak, she was a genius.

Back then, to answer Maria's plea of forgiveness, Victoria had simply turned her around and said 'Shut up and give me a hug.'

After that Maria let Victoria into her world fully, she told her everything, shown her everything and accepted her as someone she could trust.

Moving apart would kill her, but Victoria swore to never abandon Maria. No matter what happened.

Maria sat silently in her hospital bed; she could only nod in agreement. She understood what Victoria was saying... or at least she tried to understand.

Before leaving to hospital, Maria spent a few more minutes with Victoria, talking about the flat Maria would check out and how Victoria was feeling.

Eventually after reassuring Maria that she would be fine in the hospital, she shooed Maria out, telling her to get a hotel room and call about the Baker Street flat. Maria agreed and soon she found herself in another bed, this time in some small hotel in the outskirts of London. Her phone was in her hand, the number already dial, waiting for someone to pick up on the other side. After a moment someone answered and a old lady's voice sounded through the speaker.

"'Ello? This is Mrs. Hudson, Land Lady to Baker Street. What can I do for you?"

"M'names Maria Ashdown, I'm interested in the 221a Baker Street flat? Could I come over next week an' look at it?"

"Course deary, come right over."

xXx

**Author's note: Oh my, Victoria lost a hand and people have died. Well, collateral fictional damage. I warn you, there will be a lot of death in this story... y'know, since it's a murder mystery and all. **

**What's cool is that there actually is a Wellcome Library, the place where Maria works. It's by Euston Station. Look it up on Google Maps and you'll know what Victoria was talking about. **

**And yes, Maria is moving to 221 Baker Street. The attic flat, I think, is basically like Sherlock's flat but some of the ceilings are sloped. There are bats too, but that'll be covered later. **

**Reviews are always appreciated and help me a lot.**

**Cheers, **

**Elleari**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI – Bats in the Belfry **

**xXx**

Maria now stood in front of 221 Baker Street while a light rain drizzled over London town.

A week had passed since she left the hospital, giving her enough time to set everything up. She had spend the week looking over documents and her account, shopping for essentials that she had lost in the explosion and talking with Mrs. Hudson about the flat.

Maria had met the kind old Mrs. Hudson face to face yet; even so she was determined to get that flat. They had spent plenty of time talking over the phone, even emailing each other about the flat's appearance. It was perfect for one person, especially for one that didn't go out a lot. Mrs. Hudson had said it was newly renovated and had big old windows, letting in light and fresh air. _'That will at least stop Victoria worrying about my health.' _She though, excited about her new home.

Victoria was still in the hospital, soon she would be moved to rehab so she could get used to the lost hand. Jeffrey was taking good care of her, visiting virtually every day while making sure she was comfy. She and Maria would talk at length over the phone about how she was doing. Maria hadn't had much time to visit but after examining Victoria's injury she assured her that her wound was healing nicely and all she had to do was recover psychologically.

All that was left now was for Maria to sort out her own life.

Maria took a deep breath, steeling herself, and took the final step. She rung the door bell and waited for someone to answer. She straightened her shirt and reviewed what she would need to say.

There would be no slip-ups or off hand observations today. She wanted that flat and she couldn't get it if she didn't act normal.

Inside she could hear frantic shuffling and a something being nearly knocked over. She could hear a faint call.

"It's for me!"

At last, who Maria assumed to be Mrs. Hudson opened the door.

"You must be Dr. Maria Ashdown! Dear, do come in! Oh, aren't you a pretty one, look at that beautiful hair or yours! And those freckles, and that little scar on you eyebrow! Isn't it a cutie? Are you sure you're not a model or something?" Maria could only blush at the comment; it was next to never when she received a compliment of any kind.

"Ah, no. I was a doctor, now I'm a librarian. Trust me; I have a lot more scars that I don't think people would like to see." Maria felt slightly more comfortable around the old land lady. She could tell by her ring finger that she was once a married woman but now she was most probably a widower. There was a slightly lighter band of skin where the ring once was. There were also little scars that indicated that Mrs. Hudson had had a bad habit of turning the ring when she was highly stressed. Not a good marriage then. She seemed happy enough now though, stressed but happy. She could see recently developed laugh lined on her elderly face.

'_Enough of tha'! I said don't push it!' _ Maria scolded herself, she really did like the woman, she didn't want to go and scare her away.

"Uh- could I come in? It's a bi' chilleh out there." said Maria, trying to keep the interview on schedule.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. Do come in." said Mrs. Hudson as she held the door open for Maria as she stepped in, placing her coat on a rack near the door. Three other coats sat there. _'One for each resident? Two male and what I suspect to be Mrs. Hudson's.'_

As they were heading down the hall, Mrs. Hudson decided to strike up a conversation, even though it did seem a bit one sided.

"Sorry about the mess, I'll have it cleaned up, don't worry. Shall we go see the flat? I cleaned it up quite nicely. There might be small bat problem; I can take care of that for you...though... they are quite cute. They don't bother anyone and they live in the corner of the cupboard. They're not the blood suckers, I looked it up."

"Blood sucking bats can only normally be found in the more tropical regions of Central and South America." Maria added in quietly. Truthfully, the bats wouldn't bother her at all. They'd make good companions at the least.

"Would you like some tea, dear? You're not very talkative are you, though quite knowledgeable about bats? Well I suppose a doctor would have to study biology at some point. I have a friend back in Florida, used to study all sorts of night critters. Oh, she could go on for hours... I think she worked at the zoo. Never mind, come, come!" Mrs. Hudson chatted eagerly.

Maria really didn't want to waste too much time; she had already gotten most of the paperwork set while on the phone with Mrs. Hudson. She was fed up with living from one hotel to another like right after she had finished her service. All she wanted was a place to herself, someplace to call her own where she could bundle up and simply be at peace.

The land lady came back out with a cuppa for each of them as they both headed upstairs to the flat. Once they got there, Maria made quick work of the inspection. She had lived in tents for 4 year while in the military so this was almost luxurious.

The living room was bright, lit with the morning sun's light. The rooms where bare of any furniture except for a few basics. The living room wall was painted a light blue, the others painted in other cold pastel colors.

She even checked the cupboard where the little family of bats lived; sure enough there was a little space at the back from where little black eyes shone back at Maria. They didn't seem to be bothered at all; they must have been pets once.

It was clearly evident that the flat was old. Along with the occasional stain, the wood was well aged and Maria could see the late 1900's craftsmanship. She nodded at the room with satisfaction.

"Ma'am, I'm happy to say that I'd be honored to sign the final agreements for this lovely flat." She said carefully, pausing a moment before continuing.

"There is no need to worry ma'am; I will not be leaving 'ere today without it. But... there is one request."

"What is it my dear?"

"Could I sleep here from tonight onwards? I'm somewhat sick of living in hotel rooms. An' I think I'll keep the bats. They are quite cute." A tentative smile graced Maria's lips.

Mrs. Hudson on the other hand was ecstatic. She went to hug the woman before she could stop her. Maria was swiftly caught up in a strong hug, flinching and contracting at the overwhelming contact. She had underestimated Mrs. Hudson's strength. She wasn't used to so much touching from a stranger she hardly new.

"Perfect dear! Oh, and you'll have to meet the boys soon then? Maybe I'll invite you all over for some tea and biscuits. Let's go down and sign the papers then. See, we'll be one big family... albeit an odd one." Maria was a bit confused at the statement. Where the other patrons going to be trouble? She had absolutely no clue who they where, she had hoped to avoid them as best she could.

Mrs. Hudson wouldn't elaborate any further, seeing as she was already dancing down the hall, humming happily to herself.

"You know, it will be wonderful to get another woman in the complex. The boys are such dears but they can get a bit rough sometimes."

"T-they aren't dangerous, are they? They aren't alcoholics or anything, right?" Asked Maria worriedly, she really didn't want to associate herself with people like that anymore.

"No, no sweetie! Though, I think one did have a past about it... he's brilliant though. Bless him. He's a bit of an odd one... he has a heart though, don't forget that."

"That goodness..."

'_The Boys' _thought Maria. Who would they turn out to be?

Maria followed the old land lady down the stairs and into her own little flat. Mrs. Hudson busied herself with some tea and the documents they would need to sign. Maria gazed around the flat, observing all the little details. _'Herbal soothers...'_

"So, what brings you into the flat-hunt in the first place?" she asked. Maria had been avoiding the subject for a while but she figured she would best tell the kind old woman now.

"I've been looking for a place to live for a while now. Though th'process was sped up a bi'. Never expected to find a bloomin' bomb in meh old home. M'loveleh flatmate lost a hand... th'othah died."

Maria caught her breath a bit. The anger was starting to bubble from her stomach again. _'Keep calm you fool.' _ She told herself. She didn't want to scare away Mrs. Hudson now, not when she was so close to getting the flat and getting acquainted with her. The bombing had messed up most of her life; she had to hold on to whatever control she had left.

"Oh! You where a victim of one of the... um, oh what was it? _The Salty Bombings?_"

"The salty wha-? I- I, uh, think so."

Mrs. Hudson only looked at her with sympathy.

"Don't worry dear, soon enough you'll have a new home."

"Thanks."

**-x-**

Upstairs, John Watson sat in his old couch, a news paper thrown halfharzardly on the table to the right. He was staring at his laptop, trying to write up the newest adventure on his blog; '_The Bath Salt Bombings.' _

It turned out that the dealers had had a special drug supply that had gotten lost in the system and eventually sold to the wrong people. To clear it up they had tracked down the drugs and eliminated the evidence. There was still the question of why it happened so suddenly and so violently. The police had left it, considering the case a success. Of course Sherlock had some theory, he had just chosen not to reveal it to anyone.

His roommate, Sherlock Holmes, was somewhere in the flat, probably in the kitchen, doing something or other with some thumbs. Suddenly the kettle whistled and a surprised 'humph' followed soon after. _'So Sherlock was in the kitchen after all.' _ thought John, getting up to pour the boiled water into the tea mugs.

"Did you have to buy the kettle with the whistle? It's disturbing my thinking..." said Sherlock bitterly. He had been in deep thought when the blasted kettle had startled him out of the revelry.

"Yes, you broke the last one when you tried to boil formaldehyde and some sorts of acid together, remember?"

"Well, don't expect this one to have much of a lifespan either."

John had come home one day to see that the kitchen was a complete disaster, and that was saying something. The acid had leaked through the kettle and had melted the bottom wiring until it had started to burn. Sherlock had just put out the flame when John entered the flat.

Sherlock just waved the incident off, it was none of his concern anymore, in the end he had gotten the needed results.

"So, what are you trying to do this time?" asked John, looking at the thumbs curiously. He knew not to ask most of the time, but sometimes his mind would get the better of him.

There on the kitchen counter sat four thumbs, cut off at the joint and attached to little pedestals so they sat upright.

"I'm measuring the growth of the nail after death. Not that hard to figure out... just a lot of observation." said Holmes in a bored voice, taking a scalpel and poking at a new thumb.

"Do you have to do that here? Can't you do that at Barts' laboratories?"

"No, it's much more convenient here."

"Oh come now... don't you have a case to look at or something?" John hoped to distract Sherlock long enough so he could throw away the thumbs while he was turned. The only answer he got was a disgruntled sigh.

Lestrade had given Sherlock a new case a few days ago, something to do with a missing canary and a dead woman. He had solved it in five hours, giving him too much free time. Sighing dramatically, Sherlock said;

"The criminal population must enjoy taunting me like this. You'd think they would at least be more active around the New Year. All the scary situations the public could get into with their systems filled with alcohol and adventurous future plans in mind." He really was falling apart on the inside. He had learned to look for other distractions, even going out to the theater, but this was insane! He really was going to lose it!

"God! John I'm so **Bored**!" yelled Sherlock finally.

"Have you checked your website any for requests?"

"All they want is to find some stupid missing cat."

"Who's?"

"Some rich noble's..."

"Wai- Sherlock! You refused a country nob-!"

"Shh!" interjected Sherlock suddenly. He had heard something from above from the attic flat.

"Did you hear that?" He asked quietly, looking to see if John had heard.

He put down his scalpel and headed into the living room, interested in the new development.

"Mrs. Hudson?" asked John. He stopped to listen. He could hear the land lady come down the stairs, but what was interesting was that behind her was another set of footsteps.

"Light, female. She's wearing flats... not very comfortable in anything but normal shoes. The slightest limp in the right leg, old wound. Probably acting up from the weather. Confident but stiff gait... possibly a person of authority of used to being formally addressed. But... the gait is also slow, off beat. What could we figure from that Watson?" deduced Sherlock.

"No clue... she's relaxed? Has bad tempo?" said John, not really following.

"But why would there be someone like that with Mrs. Hudson? She is far too young to be a friend of hers." He asked, running through any recent events that would explain the visit.

"It's possible she has a new younger friend, wasn't she going to some yoga place?" pondered John, then he suddenly remembered;

"Wasn't there an ad for the 221a flat in the papers a week or so ago? It was for rent I think... do you think she's here for that?" said John.

He had remembered talking to Mrs. Hudson about it. She had told him she had found someone interested, lovely young woman apparently.

"There was?" For someone who could see the tiniest detail of someone's life, Sherlock could still be pretty thick when it came to domestics.

"Yeah. Well, what do you think?"

"Oh, undoubtedly then." Sherlock answered, though he sounded a bit distant. He had seen something through the open crack of their door. It was just a flash from reflecting light but it reminded him of something immediately. Few could possibly have that type of hair color.

"She's here to buy... Ginger..." He said slowly, cautious of his own words. He was getting a bit excited, would this be someone new? He normally hated people trying to get into his circle but since he was so bored he hoped he could possibly deduce them... play a bit while he had nothing better to do.

"Wait, how do you know she's ginger?" asked John, not noticing his friend's expression.

"When she was passing by, the light hit her hair and sent off some dark orange tinted light. It was brief but you could see it through the door. Obvious, isn't it?"

"Not to me." said John. He would just have to meet the new patron later then.

"Cuppa?" he asked while pouring himself and his friend cups of tea. He put some more water in the kettle; he might need it if they would be meeting the new girl soon.

Sherlock flashed a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"How about we go meet the new neighbor?"

xXx

**Author's Note: So, Maria's moving into 221a! And she's about to meet "the boys," I wonder how that will turn out? I'm excited about the next few chapters; I get to write a lot of deductions about lifestyle and so forth. Maria **_**is**_** brilliant, but more in the scientific way. Sherlock on the other hand has perfected the art of human observation! They have a parallel where they both have a very similar ability. They don't just see, they observe and deduce. Maria's also related to John, since they're both army doctors... but apart from that there isn't much in common**

**A thanks to: ****Lorna Roxen,** **ChellGallifrey221B613 ****(I got the title from a comment of hers, thank you!) and ****TheGirlWhoImagined **

**You reviews really help, even if just to know that someone appreciated the story.**

**Also, great big thanks to ****stanleydoodles**** and ****HeadOverHeelsInHate. **

**They've been with me since that start and have helped a lot. Thank you guys so much!**

**(Sorry, I don't know how to do the link thing.)**

**Maria is a very scarred and shy person and it's hard to find equilibrium. I don't want to make her this sort of commando super genius... but I still want to make her odd enough to possibly be an equal to the famous Sherlock Holmes. **

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII – Afghanistan or Iraq?**

**xXx**

"Please don't tell me you're going to go down and harass the poor girl? First day here and you're going to tell her life story in front of everybody?" said John, irritated at Sherlock's rude behavior. He could get a bit picky when he was bored, he could even throw a tantrum, but John would not allow their new neighbor to be scared off.

"No, no. I just want to meet her. New neighbor and all." Sherlock was feigning innocence, a fake smile on his face.

"Sherlock Holmes, you are not going to hurt that poor girl's feelings!" said John in a surprisingly serious voice; making Sherlock think over his actions a bit. _'She is a distraction, that's all... but I suppose it would be troublesome if she where to hate me..."_

"Alright." He said.

"Alright?"

"Yes, alright, I won't go and bother her unless she asks for it. I do, however, want to meet the person who will be living over our heads."

"Really?" asked John, he could see that Sherlock wasn't lying. At least he wouldn't be a problem.

"Oh, is it so hard to believe that I am actually interested in someone? She will be living next to us for god knows how long, she should know what she's getting into."

Sherlock hated people, most of them where so very ordinary, so dull. However, he had not gotten enough data from the new woman to make a prognosis yet. Maybe she could be of some use to him.

He had traveled for a while a few years ago, albeit unwillingly, and from that time his world had started to open up. He saw many things, letting him start to actually appreciate life. Most people and circumstances annoyed him still but he did have more of an open mind when wanted to.

"Fine, let's go down and meet the girl." Said John, a smile on his face. It was rare that he got to meet new people. He was so busy between his practice, running around London with Sherlock and Mary, his long standing girlfriend. Oh, how he would love to have Sherlock actually like the new neighbor so he could pester her more and he could have a night off with Mary.

'_Come now, don't be mean. That's a horrible thing to think.'_ He scolded himself...though it was true.

Sherlock got up from his couch and headed towards the door. John followed right behind him, making sure that he wouldn't do something stupid.

They made their way down the stairs, Sherlock stepping over the one creaky step, John stopping so he could jump over it properly. Psycho-traumatic or not, his leg still gave him trouble.

With the utmost care to stay silent, they finally reached Mrs. Hudson's door. Sherlock leaned over so he could hear the sound that came from the small flat. There was a bit of shifting and then a pen clicked closed. _'She must have signed the contracts. Welcome to the neighborhood then.' _He thought blankly.

"Sherlock, what are you-" John started.

"Shhhh!"

From the other side of the door they could hear Mrs. Hudson.

"Congratulations, the flat is yours!"

"T-Thank you. I hope I won't be too much trouble... I'll try not to cause too many problems." The woman's voice was shy, small and a bit weak. It was a bit dry, like she didn't use it very much. It wasn't anything special, that was obvious.

She was a nervous person, at the least. And yet, Sherlock heard the assertion in the last statement. She had a fire in her, no matter how much it was smothered. Her voice could be very authoritative if she wanted it to be.

"Oh dear, you're so sweet. Trust me, you are a heaven sent compared to the rest of them." said Mrs. Hudson jokingly.

Sherlock huffed indignantly, John could only chuckle lightly.

"But, um... please. If I go off on any sort of rants or... just stop me, okay?" The woman said slowly. Sherlock wondered why she was so concerned about that, he couldn't believe the woman had a bit gob.

"I'll bring my things up to the room, if you don't mind. I've got a cot to sleep on tonight if I have to."

"Oh, don't worry; I'll let you borrow some sheets for the bed."

"Thank you. I'll get them back as soon as I can."

After that, all that Sherlock could hear was clinking and shuffling around. _'The woman must be moving to leave then.' _

"Maria Ashdown, it will be wonderful to have you as a patron. Just call me whenever you need any help, and... Oh! I can help you settle in! Maybe I'll get John to help you. He has a bad leg but still can run like a horse."

Sherlock suddenly stiffened, thinking of what to do next. He looked down at John, still leaning in towards the door so he could hear. He had to think of some sort of plan... something fun so he could play a bit.

**-x-**

After officially signing all the document for the new flat, Maria was itching to go and put away her few belongings.

Mrs. Hudson stepped forward to let her head to the door, trying to hug Maria on the way out.

Maria thought that the old land lady was fantastic but she still wasn't able to trust her fully. She had already gotten one hug for the day, she didn't know if she could handle another from the surprisingly powerful woman.

Instead of hugging her, Maria quickly sidestepped and reached out a hand for her to shake. Gladly, Mrs. Hudson didn't seem to notice anything and took the hand gladly.

Maria opened the door, only to see two males starting down the stairs.

Sherlock had quickly grabbed John's collar, pulling him back before dragging his friend up the stairs. He made it look like they were just coming down, though John still had a shocked expression on his face.

He coughed and tried to clear his throat.

Maria stared at them, recognizing them immediately. She had a very good memory, she could remember the minutest detail, but it was impossible to forget the man that had solved the case she had been pulled into.

She even remembered seeing the sandy haired man that now stood next to him.

Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective.

"You! Y'must be th' boys!" Maria almost shouted, shocked but the coincidence.

"Naow, thi'is just mental! Why d'ye think we keep meetin' up!" Maria couldn't help it, she was laughing at herself as she saw those men. The sandy haired man, John, had a smile on his face, trying not to laugh. He was trying to remember something, from the look in his eyes.

Sherlock looked exactly the same, stoic and bored. He had thought she would be someone a bit more interesting, turns out they had already met.

He had already glanced at her before, why should he bother now.

'_Oh, and she knows what I do too... great. What where the statistical chances of meeting her again?' _Sherlock huffed.

"You're from the bombing then. Dr. Maria Ashdown, 30, works in Wellcome Library. Yes, yes, all quite boring. I thought you'd be someone new." He looked her over a bit, not really caring that much. She had already met him, twice. Without any more data she was useless to him.

"Oh thanks! I'm nothin' special then!" Maria said sarcastically, feeling insulted. Sure, she was boring but it didn't mean it had to be rubbed in her face.

"Yes, that's what I said."

She stuffed her anger back down her throat and glared at him, he wasn't worth the time or the risk.

John had been silent throughout the exchange; he was too busy trying to figure out where he had heard her name before. He hadn't heard that name in a while... who was she?

Suddenly it hit him.

"Wai- Dr. Maria Ashdown, of the RAM Corps?" John started, standing at attention. How could he have missed it? The way she stood screamed 'military.'

"Yes, I served there. I've done my time though, they gave me leave. Do I know you?' She thought for a moment, running back her memory to her army days.

"You're... Wha- Weat- Watson! John Hamish Watson! Released form duty after injury to left shoulder claimed incapable of further duty."

Maria's mind flashed to the battle field, all the wounded bodies she had taken care of... to the 'therapy.' The dead lying in piles, some bodies put there by her hands.

"Yeah, yeah! We met on a raid of the little village for that terrorist cell. We worked in the medical tents together." He remembered it very clearly; they had both worked for days on end. The first and second day the injured were brought in, afterwards the dead had been put away. He remembered Maria being brilliant with the dead, not caring for the blood. She worked like a well oiled machine, cold but precise. When some of the terrorists had attacked their tent, she had been the first one to grab a gun and shoot. He was surprised at how well she shot. There was no hesitation, no after-shock, it was clear she was used to the dead.

Now, though, he wondered what had happened to the high-spirited and efficient army doctor. She looked like a husk of herself. The air around her folded inwards like she wanted to be left alone... and yet she was so very lonely. She wore a bit wool sweater, almost like a security blanket. She was so much weaker, what had happened?

"How did you make it here?"

"I could ask the same thing!" Maria answered, trying to deflect the question.

"Well, I got shot." A sad look crossed his face. He missed the action.

Sherlock finally glanced over at his friend. He was shocked, clearly. She had known John? She was a military doctor? It made sense when he thought about it... maybe she wouldn't be that useless.

"Mmm, I did as well... Basically."

Maria pointed down to her leg. Sherlock had been right; she had had an injury there. Shrapnel had shredded her left leg, though it had healed up nicely. There was still a scar, and now and again it would be a bit more sensitive, depending on the weather.

"T'was a bi' more complicated than tha'."

"Long story?" Asked John, most military stories where.

John made it down the stairs to Maria and shook her hand, smiling fondly. She took the hand and shook it. _'Maybe it won't be too hard to find friends after all.'_

"...Ay, fer a raineh day."

Sherlock was still at the top of the stairs, trying to see Maria as an army doctor. He had wondered where she had gotten her medical degree, now it was evident. But... she still looked insecure, pitiful even. He didn't have time for someone like her. She might have once been a soldier, but now she was nothing.

John seemed interested enough, let him deal with her, he would be fine by himself.

"This is nice and all but I've got an expirament pending and I'd like to get back to it. You are someone of little importance so I'll let John deal with you." He said bitterly, already turning to head up the stairs.

"Sherlock! You don't just treat someone like that!" called John after him. Maria just glared at the dark man.

'_How dare he!'_ thought Maria, though before she could really get mad she stopped herself. She had wanted to be like this, to not stand out. This man was just telling her that she succeeded in her facade.

John saw the tension build and decided to try to defuse it. Turning to Maria, he invited her up for tea.

"Come on, we can catch up. Don't worry about Sherlock, he's just bored. He'll get used to you eventually; just don't be insulted by him." explained John as they headed up the stairs.

Sherlock huffed childishly. _'It's not my fault that everyone's an imbecile.'_

"He's also a show-off"

"Oh, I know. Sociopaths have a tendency to have a big ego." murmured Maria to herself.

Sherlock entered 221b first while Maria and John walked up slowly, laughing between themselves.

Maria looked around the building, observing all of the details. She slowed down and looked at the wood from the stairs, tested out the one creaky stair panel, memorized the number of steps. She was still carrying her bags so she made a quick trip upstairs before joining John in his flat.

By the time she got back he had made some tea while Sherlock simply sat at the kitchen table and worked away.

"So, what have you been up to for the past few years?" asked Maria. She scanned their little apartment absently.

'_It's obviously a bachelor's pad. Seems like Sherlock has most of the say for the decorating... Is that a skull?' _Sherlock was obviously a man of science and obsession. He's a text book sociopath and yet... something had happened a few years back. He was dedicated and attached to his little life... he wasn't as cold as Maria first thought.

Glancing at Sherlock, Maria could tell that he was much more relaxed and open in his own home. Here he could control what he was doing; all his information was at an arms length.

But what surprised Maria about the flat were the little pieces of sentimentality. Sure there were other things like photos and such but those where undoubtedly John's. Here and there, though, there where photos of forests and the sky. If they where Sherlock's; that meant that he was more that he put himself out to be. He had traveled...

"Oh, well, I've been mostly running around London with this guy over here." said John, interrupting her thoughts. He pointed at Sherlock who didn't even seem to be paying any attention.

"What, so yer like a crime fightin' duo? Criminals of London beware; the Baker street boys are 'ere!" She said, trying to make a joke.

"I suppose so. Apart from that I have my normal job; I work as a civil doctor, and my girlfriend, Mary."

"Girlfriend? Well, I should 'ave guessed, you always where th'flirt back in th'armeh."

"Mary's fantastic! She so sweet and I really do love her. You should meet her some day, you might find a lot in common. She works at Evelina's Children's Hospital right across the Thames."

"The one attached to St. Thomas's Hospital?"

"Yeah."

"Ah... well, I'm not a people person... But I suppose it wouldn't hurt would it?" Maria looked down at her folded legs. She was taking Victoria's advice on opening up but she still felt so stiff. She sat in the couch awkwardly, trying not to dampen the mood too much.

Gladly John didn't seem to notice, sipping his tea calmly.

"So, how did you become a librarian? I thought you would have stayed a doctor."

Maria was quite for a moment. "It wasn't in my best interest." She said simply, not wanting to go into detail.

This caught Sherlock's attention; he turned towards her from his seat in the kitchen.

"Why in the world would you give up the position to be a doctor? It's a better pay and would be much more beneficial." He paused a moment. "You're a bigger idiot that I thought you were." He said blankly.

Maria faced him, anger in her voice along with a deep hollowness. She had enough of his judgement, no matter how true it was.

"You have no right!" she said darkly.

"I'm simply stating what I see."

"You know _nothin'_ about meh! You know nothin' of meh past! You think yer so bloody special, so bloody smart!"

"Well, yes. I do consider myself to be intelligent. The rest of you only watch. I can see everything, observe and deduce. You might be some sort of doctor but I'm betting you weren't good enough to continue your practice."

He was starting to get annoyed at the woman; she was so simple, he could barely even bothered with her life.

"Now Sherlock-" began John, trying to defuse the tension. He could see that Maria was angry; she had risen from her seat as she took a military stance, becoming defensive.

"She was one of the best doc-"Again, John was cut off, this time by Maria. They seemed to be completely ignoring him.

"**Oh now do yea, do y'even know what I did!**" she said, her voice had risen bit by bit.

"Yes, that is my job. Now, what else do you want?"

Maria narrowed her eyes. He did have the skill, he was a genius but he was so very oblivious.

"**No**... no. Mr. Holmes, you will not judge me before you look at me properly. You've met me twice before this and yet you still judge blindly. You can see my life by looking and observing me, right? They tell me, look at me and they you can criticize. Then you can throw me out and never speak to me again. But for now I will no longer let someone like you lord over me." She said more quietly, steeling herself as best she could. She now held a determination in her voice that surprised even Sherlock.

He got up and made his way over to where she stood. He stood there for a moment, raking his eye over her, observing every detail, remembering everything she had done since meeting him. She stood stock still, not moving an inch.

Though she fought against him, she was intimidated by the man. He was the man that could reveal all her secrets in seconds, the man who was so much like her but also so different. And yet, she wouldn't just fall. She would show that she wasn't dead yet.

It didn't matter if this Sherlock Holmes thought she was normal, or boring or anything else. She would not be some hermit around these people. She trusted John; he had saved her life enough times back in the day. Even Mrs. Hudson was growing on her. Mr. Holmes would not just shove her away, not without a good reason.

Sherlock looked her over, sniffing a bit, even trying to get her scent.

If the woman wanted to be seen then so be it. He'd figure everything out and put her in her place. Breathing in a bit, he picked up a bit of her smell.

'_She seems to wear a lot of big sweaters... at least it keeps any smells she's picked up... a defensive mechanism?'_ She smelled a bit smoggy, from the London air. There was pine, that odd book smell which came from the library and of petrichor. _'Odd...'_

Finally he smirked, putting the puzzle pieces of her life together before him.

'_Some thing to do at least.' _ He though, smirking.

**xXx **

**Author's note: I did say that the meeting will be more than one chapter, right? Well, next up is the big reveal, isn't it? Sherlock has once again insulted someone, John's trying to help the situation... let's see what happens.**

**And yes, Maria has obviously bought the flat and is moving in, no matter how much she is insulted. **

**Was Sherlock too OOC? I hope not. He's changed a bit from the Fall (since this is post fall) but he still is his same old self. Oh, and he's traveled a lot more. That will be discussed later though. **

**I'm really excited about the next chapter though. I hope his deduction makes sense.**

**Reviews help me know how I'm doing and are greatly appreciated! Thank you everyone!**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter VIII – I Send My Love to Long Ago**

**xXx**

"What do you want me to say then?" Sherlock asked harshly. Maria didn't respond, just staring at him with her deep green eyes.

He sighed _'You bring this upon yourself...' _before taking in a breath.

"Obviously you were born in Scotland. You try to hide you accent but it pops up when you are emotional or not thinking about it. Which is very often if I think about it...

You come from the northern part, near the sea so from a small village no doubt. You still haven't gotten used to the warmer weather of London; you seem to fluctuate from being too cold or too warm. This means that you've traveled a lot and only have lived here for the past few years. You left Scotland when you where... fourteen years old? Around that, yes. Old enough to develop and keep a proper accent. Your life right now is obvious and we've already discussed it so I won't repeat myself."

Sherlock took a moment and sifted through the information he was gathering. He was actually having a blast, not like he would ever tell her though.

Her psychological state was easy enough to figure out, and from how she acted it was simple enough to connect the dots. His mind raced until suddenly he realized something.

Sherlock stopped and glanced over Maria again like he didn't really believe what he had found. He was surprised; he had never thought she would have been... She didn't look like it. Had he underestimated her? He had thought all her scars where from the military but now as the pieces fell together in his head he saw a darker truth.

John would kill him for being so insensitive and he did have to admit, he had been a bit wrong about her. But who cared, she had asked for it.

"Your actions match up perfectly with the signs of abuse. You where abused as a child, most probably by your father. You have scars that look like cuts and you flinch at any contact. I see you keep an old locket around your neck, not something you father would give you. Not even someone like a boyfriend, so mother then. You love her so you keep the locket. Though... by you psychological state it would seem she was away a lot, otherwise you wouldn't have suffered so much."

'_She had suffered',_ he realized. He shook himself; this was no time to start sympathizing with someone.

"You have no memorabilia, no contacts or friends outside of that one woman. You don't seem to be attached to anything... from what I can tell.

You have minimal contacts and it is hard to find you... No one liked you, the little odd girl in the northern Scottish village. It can happen. You don't look like the religious type; in small towns religion was key."

Maria stiffened. He had gotten the last part wrong but it hit too close to home. She had been rejected because she was a freak. She had been a mad scientist child that knew too much and felt too little.

Maria silently begged him not to dig into it. She already knew that John had become rigid behind her.

She hung her head and sat down, wiping all emotion from her face. _'Shield yourself, control is key,' _She told herself.

Watching her, the facts dawned in Sherlock's mind.

"You weren't just abused or ignored, you where ostracized. Small communities will do that to a child if... Buy what did you do?" He paused to ponder the fact. He couldn't figure it out.

"You left with your mother. By your age you skipped a year or two somewhere in your secondary education. Then you are smart after all. You traveled, not a lot but enough. You don't seem to belong to any sort of country classification."

She gave him a funny look, not understanding what he was babbling on about.

"If someone stays in a country long enough, they will pick up bits of their customs or traditions. You drink your tea like the French... but it's too hard to pin point it.

But after that... Oh! The medical knowledge! You went to study it... you don't look like someone to apply for the army right away... You where taken out of university and put into the program at some point."

Maria clenched her fists at the mention.

'_Those bloody doctors! The bastards!' _She thought. They didn't understand her interest. Sure she had been a bit more volatile than most people, experimenting on dead animals and sometimes donated organs. The Professors had mistaken her interest for mental instability. Of course Sherlock noticed the clenching and reacted on it.

"Oh- kicked out then... then sent to the military to become an army doctor. We already know about Afghanistan. Something happened there though, you obviously got hit. But there was something else."

'_He's digging too deep!' _Thought Maria worriedly.

"Enough about the military... please," she begged quietly. Sherlock searched her eyes. He saw something but didn't know what emotion it was so he dismissed it.

"Sherlock, you're taking it too far-"began John. He had let Sherlock look into her life for long enough, she was starting to suffer for it. She wanted to be respected, not rejected.

"No, it's fine. He's almost done." Maria said, surprising everyone.

Sherlock was surprised at her comment.

'_Why? Isn't it uncomfortable? I have to admit though... I was wrong. She is more interesting that I thought. So much pain...' _He tried not to remember his own past.

"Well, after your military service you traveled a bit again. Not much though. You never did get used to civilian life... never had the chance. Eventually you decided to become a librarian and we know the rest of it.

You don't like pink, you don't own a single thing in the color and you avoided the pink mug in our cabinet. Instead you where drawn to the green one.

You own weapons but aren't a violent person, obvious enough. No one just gives up the protection of a gun... and it is your legal right.

You own no pets and keep your living space in relative order. You don't seem to have many traces of anything on your clothes... I commend you on that.

You do, however, love tea. Three cups in only four hours. A good bladder then as well.

You like children, though I don't know why. You had pictures of children's drawings on your desk at the library. Obviously you don't own your own children so they where no doubt from the daycare.

As far as I'm concerned you are living an easy, boring life." finished Sherlock, adding in a few random facts that he had gotten off of her, just to be impressive.

"Sherlock!" said John, the ending was uncalled for. Maria was not boring, she was intelligent and inquisitive. She was an excellent human being that just had had a lot of bad luck.

Maria sat there silently, stunned at how precise he was. She supposed that if one was to put facts down like that he or she would be able to reconstruct most of their life. He really was impressive.

At last, Maria stood back up, lifting her head as well. Sherlock leaned back a bit. He didn't show it but he was prepared to be slapped, or berated, or even shoved into the closet like the one time.

He was surprised, though, when nothing happened. Maria just stood there and smiled. She smiled a hollow lost smile. It didn't even reach her eyes, she had no emotion.

'_Is-Is she a high functioning psychopath? That would be new, never had one of those before.' _Sherlock thought. She _was_ something new, never before had he met someone like her. She was a soldier and he had just insulted her and revealed her darkest secrets, by all means he should be lying on the ground right now with a bloodied nose at best. And yet she just stood there, like she had given up. She accepted that it was her fault... that was a sign of extreme intelligence.

He felt a twist in his stomach, something he had not truly felt in a long time. _'Guilt?'_ He was surprised at the thought and quickly tried to smother it.

"You're right, primarily. Ay, I was abused, I was different but now I'm not. And yes, I'm boring but I'd rather be regular than abused." Maria made a move to leave but stopped when suddenly Sherlock spoke.

"I'm sorry." He said it so quietly, like he wasn't really sure what to do or why he said it. Even so, she knew the man would normally never even come close to apologizing so she accepted it immediately.

John gaped openly when he heard. Sherlock needed to apologize to her but he never believed that he would.

Maria softened. It was the first time anyone had said something like that to her.

"Thank you." She offered back, trying to make peace.

He was facing away from her, quite for a , Sherlock wiped around to face her fully and stood up straight, reaching a hand out to Maria. She flinched back a bit, he was tall, even for her, but realized that he wasn't a threat. No one here was a threat.

Sherlock was an intimidating man but now he had a smile of his face. Not a smirk or a fake smile like the ones he had given her till then, it was a genuine smile. He was trying to make peace as well. She smiled back fully, John just nodding approvingly in the back.

"Welcome to Baker Street. I'll be relying on your expertise from now on. Apparently John's girlfriend precedes murder cases these days."

Maria just looked at him. He was cold, a high functioning sociopath, but she knew that this was an invitation into his inner circle. He wanted to trust her, at least a bit. She barely knew him but he knew almost everything about her.

'_I guess he figured tha' if I'm gon'tah live'ere I bes'be useful.'_

She took his outreached hand and shook it, smiling back at him.

"I worked best as a mortician. Dead things are my specialty. I'm an expert at anatomy, biology and chemistry. You know what I am capable of, yeah?"

"Relatively. It will be beneficial working with you, Ms. Ashdown."

"Just Maria, please. And I agree, Mr. Holmes."

"Just Sherlock, please."

"Now that that's settled, tea anyone?" asked John.

Maria could only chuckle. She still had so much to talk about with him but it was already getting pretty late and all this emotional strain had worn her down.

"Maybe later, I've still got work to do upstairs."

**-x-**

Sherlock had gone back to his thumbs, only to find that John had thrown them out. He glared at his flatmate, yet John barely reacting.

Sherlock soon got a call from Lestrade, something to do with a murder. He smiled mischievously and pulled out his phone.

Maria spent the next few hours organizing everything, looking over the rooms and showering. When she finally came out of the bathroom, she wore an old sweater over some pyjama pants and wool socks. This was how she felt at home; alone, safe and in comfort.

She walked past the cupboard, opening it up to look at the bats. The sun was just setting so they where about the leave. They seemed to be Serotine bats, one of the larger species. There was a little hole you could see in the very corner; that must be how they got out each night. They looked like they were almost domesticated, behaving normally.

"Five 'o yeah little buggers. Wha't name ye?" she said before they crawled out.

"Och-"

Maria went to sit down on a couch in the living room. She turned on the telly to the news, letting the information absorb but ignored it while she thought over what had happened downstairs. Victoria would have been so proud.

Out of the blue, Maria's pyjama pocket vibrated, giving her an odd sensation. She took out her phone and looked down at the screen. She didn't recognize the number.

'_Who would want to text me at a time like this?'_

**What do you think of this liver?**

**-SH**

The liver in question was in a photo attached to the text. Maria looked at it, observing the membrane and the tissue and how it looked rotted out and shriveled.

Of course the text was from Sherlock, he had said that he would be asking for her help. She figured that this was a way for him to become friends with her. She had to show him that she was worth something by starting as a business partner. _'So he was serious about me being a consultant. Alright then, let's not disappoint.'_

**The growth is clearly cancer. The uneven texture of the liver indicates Cirrhosis but the grooves in between the cells are too deep. There has to be some sort of acidic or toxic exposure. Check for tar levels in cigarettes, if not check stomach contents if possible for any sort of exposure. From the level of severity, and excluding the cancer, he would have been fed the substance 3 hours before death. Tissue tests are magnificent if you have the time.**

**-MA**

She smiled at the text, reading it over before sending it. It had been a long time since she was able to do something like this. If she wasn't so damned awkward she would have thanked Sherlock, but she still was a bit cross at him for his insults. She still felt dirty for who she was, even though she was suddenly introduced to these people. It would take years for her to heal, at least she held a bit of hope for herself now.

It was almost another two hours before he finally responded. By then Maria had already made her way into bed, a book lying on her nose and half asleep.

Again, her phone buzzed on her desk. It kept vibrating until it was at the very edge, abruptly being caught Maria before it hit the floor. _'Damn buzzer.' _

**Good job, you've passed the test. You've just proved that a man had poisoned his ex's new partner.**

**-SH**

That woke her up, quickly she texted him back. _'Did I help with a murder again?'_

**He was gay? Oh, and can you tell me when I'm about to help solve a crime. And why aren't you asleep yet, it's almost one in the morning.**

**-MA**

She was annoyed at his awareness at a time like this. He seemed to live off of his work, no matter what time of day. All she wanted was to sleep and yet he knew what to say to get her attention. She suspected he was able to play John like that as well.

**John says I am basically someone that goes by the name of Bat-Man.** **Good observation. You should be able to tell when you are helping, shouldn't you?**

**-SH**

**I'm just going to ignore the last comment and go to bed now. Thank you and good-night.**

**-MA**

**Good night Dr. Ashdown.**

**-SH**

**Good night Mr. Holmes. Is there anything else I could do for you?**

**-MA**

**No, you're dismissed for now.**

**-SH**

She chuckled while tossing her phone back onto the desk. When finally she fell asleep, she no longer had dreams of the battlefield or of the old, cold and stony moors. No images flashed and she finally felt at peace.

**xXx**

**Author's Note: **

**You know what is annoying? Writing a chapter and ending it perfectly, only to find it too short. I could have written only half as much as normal but I thought that that would just be lazy. So here is a little finisher a long with the 'great deduction' as I call it. It took me 5 tries to write that thing. **

**Please review and tell me how I did. I hope it's consistent... in my head it is.**

**Oh! And I need help naming the bats! 5 names please, hopefully something Scottish or witty. 2 male and 3 female please.**

**I hope you like this chapter, I tried really hard and I didn't have any jot-notes this time. Off the top of my head and that sometimes doesn't work very well. I'll see. **

**Cheer,**

**Elleari**


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX – The World Keeps Spinning**

**xXx**

"**SHERLOCK**!" Yelled someone from down below, waking Maria with a start.

She had a small panic attack while she rolled out of bed, throwing up the sheets all over the place as she landed on the ground. Grabbing her gun she tried to go into a crouching position, only to stumble over her sheets some more while another thump came from down below.

By now she should have been used to it; she had been living in her new flat for nearly two weeks. Though, she figured that she would never get used to the complete ridiculousness of living at Baker Street. At first Maria couldn't fathom why Mrs. Hudson could hold out that long, living with 'the Boys.' But eventually she herself had started to get used to them. John did know how to brew a good cuppa.

"Sherlock! Why are there eyeballs in my mug!" yelled John from downstairs.

"There were no bowls left," answered Sherlock as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Maria could only snicker as she untangled herself from her sheets and tried to get dressed.

'_Damn git'll pay fer wakin' meh.' _She thought ash she made her way to her own kitchen, throwing on a shirt as she went.

The kitchen was relatively small and was painted mainly in a light grey/blue color with black back-drops and whatnot. She had everything she needed; there was even a bit window in front of the sink, looking out into the roof next door.

Setting up the kettle, Maria reached into the old wood cabinets, searching for something. _'Where is tha' tea that I bought?'_

Maria had work today, she had been called in to watch over a visiting class; she had no time to go looking for some misplaced tea.

Looking at the clock she saw that it was already eight in the morning, she had to be at work in an hour. Rushing to get dressed, she threw on some jeans, a shirt with some pattern on it and a cardigan so it looked like she actually tried to match her clothes. She wasn't particularly concerned about what she wore. She figured that as long as she didn't look like a slob when going out she would be fine. She normally worked where people wouldn't see her so what was the point in dressing up.

Mumbling, Maria made her way through the flat, picking up her portfolio and bag. She slipped on her shoes and headed out the door.

Making her way down the stairs she passed the 221b flat. The door was open slightly and she was able to see books flying through the living room, landing carelessly on the couch on the far end.

If there was one thing that Maria hated, it was the abuse of books. What have they done to anyone, they're just inanimate objects. Quickly and silently, she stepped into the flat and caught the next book to fly her way.

"Oi! Respect th'books, willin' ye? Leave'em be, wha' have they ever done t'you?" Maria said, startling John out of his seat in the kitchen. Sherlock stopped, halfway up one of his book cases with a book still in his hand. When he saw her, his eyes lit up a bit but his expression stayed blank, remaining still while he looked her over.

"Perfect! Just the person I needed. I should have texted you first. I've gotten a new case...well, it's more of a lead but I am sure that there is a connection." He said while Maria tidied up the books a bit.

"Well, then. What 'ave you got for me today Mr. Holmes." she said, nodding to John as he sat sipping his tea, seemingly recovered from the surprise.

"The body in the bell tower!" Sherlock exclaimed, jumping down to stand in the middle of the living room.

"Yesterday, late in the evening, Lestrade called and asked for help on the case. A body was found with a hemp bag sewn onto its back with wood chips stuffed into it to look like a hump. His face was mutilated and was initially killed by a bullet through his head."

"Alright... Isn't that a representation of Quasimodo from "The Hunchback of Notre-Dame" by Victor Huge? Was that why you were throwing books all 'bout?"

Sherlock smirked, Maria was always quick to catch up. _'Good to have around.' _

"Yep."

"But, you should 'ave made that connection... the book's a classic!" exclaimed Maria as she picked up another book. Sherlock only looked at her, uninterested with the conversation.

"Oh, he has a thing with deleting any information he doesn't need." Filled in John, seeing her confusion.

"He can do that?" she asked before turning to Sherlock. "You can do that?"

"Simple," he said distractedly, annoying Maria. _'Of course it'simple fer'im. He's bloody Sherlock 'Olmes.'_

Even though Maria had tried reading into Sherlock as much as possible, he still would surprise her. Now that she thought about it, it did make sense. She had learnt that he was an expert in control. Why wouldn't he be able to control his own memory?

She was envious of him, in that aspect. She would love to delete some of the more painful memories of her child hood. She had an excellent memory, in almost every aspect. Since her childhood she had had these abilities...a huge reason as to why people considered herself a freak.

She could memorized with just a glance, had photographic memory (eidetic) and even Mnemonic memory. Still, she didn't have that type of control.

"Yeah, before I met him he had deleted the fact that the Earth orbits the sun and that there's a solar system. What did he say... his mind was like a database and it was only logical to keep things he'll need in it."

Sherlock stood up, pointing at John quickly to confirm that he was right before grabbing his equipment.

"Brilliant! Great, come on John, the game is afoot!"

He threw his coat on and strode out of the flat with John right behind him.

"See you later Maria," said John quickly as he exited the flat.

"Update me when you can!" called Maria after them. Sherlock was already down stairs but she figured he had heard.

"Bell tower murder... I wonder why." She mumbled, placing back the last of Sherlock's books in their original spots before finally heading out to work.

The day seemed promising as she walked to work. It was warm but still cold enough for her to wear a scarf. She found that she rather enjoyed the path that went past Regent Park, even though it is brief. The sun shone through the trees as dappled shade protected Maria. The streets where busy compared to the ones from her old flat, though not enough so that the air was clogged with smog.

The wind was warmer and calmer and the open streets where wonderful to look at.

Finally, she made it to the library. Once she signed in she headed straight for the racks, avoiding everyone as best she could. She had discovered that living alone was very beneficial, even if she missed Victoria. She wasn't always so stressed and she could avoid contact for days on end.

Of course she still had to answer to Sherlock when he asked for help, god knows what he would do if she started to ignore him as well.

She still had to prove herself to the man. He had opened up a bit but was still very stiff around her, not telling her what he was doing, only asking her random questions.

She wanted to have friends like John and him; she was getting sick of being alone. She was in her 30's for goodness sakes!

Her mother, when she called, would always bother her about settling down with a family; her mother being the traditional sort of woman.

Even though Maria guessed that it was impossible, the idea of not being alone was appealing enough.

If only she and Sherlock could stop bickering for a moment to talk, they might find a lot in common.

'_Well, I'll just have to try harder.' _She thought, her self esteem slowly going down the drain. The man truly was intimidating, especially to someone like her.

Even though she still felt awkward in her own skin, a bit of the ever present hollowness had been taken away. It seemed that at least the 'rotting' sensation had stopped. She was someone very dangerous, a freak, but she still wanted to lead a normal life.

'_Damn it!' _she said, mussing up her hair wildly while organizing some books. _'Why am I so bloody confused all the time!' _

Eventually she finished in the back and moved to tidy up after the mid day crowd. There had been a high school in so of course books where everywhere. Timothy Wu even came over to try to help, seeing her carry pile after pile of books.

"Do, uh... you need any help?"

'_Bless'_ thought Maria.

"Suppose I could. 'Ere, these books go in section B4 under dui 4500, 2000, 4328, 4323, 3242 and 4449. Got tha'?" she said while handing him over the pile she had been carrying. The boy looked utterly confused but took the stack anyway.

As she made her way back, she got a text from Sherlock.

**Why would someone hurt another after they insulted a dead relative?**

**-SH**

Maria could only smirk at the text. She might be close to being a psychopath but she still understood human emotion. The man was brilliant but she had found out quite quickly that some human concepts were completely lost.

**Sentiment. Well, extreme sentiment but still.**

**-MA**

She wrote back quickly before taking another stack of books. After a moment of thinking, she added in another text;

**Did you get slapped?**

**-MA**

****She received no reply so assumed that she was right. He could be borderline rude by just opening his mouth sometimes, even if he was just stating a fact.

Soon enough the mid-day break ended and the library started to fill up with new occupants. Once again she saw teachers, a ton of students and a few retirees.

As she glanced over everyone from her perch on the second floor she spotted someone. He was a lean and well muscled man with a great big mop of hair. Most would dismiss him or find him attractive but as Maria watched him she couldn't help but laugh behind her hand. His wrists were bruised, his leg muscles defined but almost streamline, as if he spent a lot of time off the ground. And there behind his ear was a splotch of face paint. Not only that but she could see that he wore eyeliner and groomed tediously.

'_What's a circus performer doin'ere?' _She thought while giggling. These types of things would always liven up her day; show her that the world actually had a sense of humor.

It was rare but on occasion, like today, the strangest people would show up in the library. Sure there where normal people with the odd professional but it always cracked her up when she found a five year old trying to read a physics encyclopedia or when she would spot a cabbie driver reading romance novels like there was no tomorrow.

'_Silly people; wearing their emotions on their sleeve. They never suspect that there is someone that will notice.' _

Eventually the day wore down and the evening started to set in. Maria packed up and headed home, once again cutting past Regent Park, letting the setting sun warm her face.

Compared to her old life arrangement, this new setting would be proof enough of miracles. She still kept to herself, letting most if her emotions lie beneath her mask. Even so, instead of always looking down at least now she would smile more, even laugh out in public.

Her mood had improved, she felt everything become more vibrant and even the air tasted better. It had just been two weeks since the change but she wouldn't give it up for the world.

Maria had asked Victoria why she felt so much better, why the world seemed to slowly regain its color. She could only come up with two conclusions; either she truly had just needed some sort of change or she had fallen in love and all of this was just a side effect. Maria could only laugh at the thought as she walked down the street.

'_Me, in love? It would be more likely that Odin had shaved 'is beard! Love is just... chemicals. Yeah, chemicals.' _She said while she finally reached Baker Street.

She had never experience anything even close to love, she didn't expect to anytime soon. Maria guessed that she was just asexual but without ever meeting anyone that brought out any emotions she couldn't be sure. Her mother and Victoria still held out hope, even if Maria wouldn't talk about it.

'_But isn't that what asexual basically means, feeling nothing?' _the little voice in her head asked. _'Yes and no. I can't tell because I can't feel anythin' anyway...'_she answered back.

Maria giggled at her thoughts while she passed by the 221b flat; they were starting to border on delusional.

"You seem rather chipper" said a voice from the door. Maria looked up to see Sherlock at the door, dressed and ready to go out to town. Maria jumped back a bit in surprise. She had been deep in thought, having a conversation with herself. Maria blushed a bit while looking up at him, a bit embarrassed for some reason.

"W-Well, it's a nice day outside and I've just finished work. Why wouldn't I be?" she responded before she got too flustered and did something stupid. She didn't want to humiliate herself in front of the man, especially since she wasn't used to interaction.

"I suppose so." He said calmly, staring down at the young woman.

"So, how was the domestic case?"

"Oh, that was simple. Not worth my time."

"Always happy to be of service, Mr. Holmes." said Maria, trying to be a bit cheeky. "So, how is the bell tower murder going?"

"Fine. I'm going out now so I can meet up with Lestrade. Now, if you'll excuse me." Sherlock said before making his way down stairs. Maria said good-bye and told him to contact her if he needed any help before making her way up to her own flat.

"Why would I need your help?" He called back, pissing Maria off a bit. For all the great he did, he was an arrogant sod.

"No reason, Mr. Holmes." she said bitterly. She had helped him enough since meeting him and yet he hadn't ever said a simple 'thank you.'

Downstairs, Sherlock smirked, he would never admit it but since meeting the woman two weeks ago, she was staring to prove to be a very loyal consultant. He knew that he was being insensitive but he couldn't really help if people took him too personally.

He didn't know about Maria's abilities, not yet anyway. He still saw her as just someone that spent too much time reading.

One way or another she was starting to prove to be an asset, if not even a friend.

**-x-**

The next few days slipped by without anything really happening. Maria would get home, wash up, and then go furniture shopping or try to fix up her flat a bit more.

By the end of the week her flat was fully unpacked and organized. She had bought a lot of new books since most of the previous volumes had burned in the fire.

She had put in wall to wall book cases in the living room and in her own bedroom, placing a few nick-nacks and medical equipment here and there on the shelves.

She had a lot of things in storage since entering the army. Afterwards she had moved around so much she found it too time consuming to repack everything. Now that she was hopefully settling down she could bring out some of the things she had collected over the years.

John and Mrs. Hudson had helped her move in. They had quickly found out that Maria's version of 'decorating' was to put up a couple of couches and but covers for a bed. Mrs. Hudson had been horrified to find out that nothing more would be done with flat, stating that it had so much more potential.

She had set everything up, helping her place the odd chair and organize the few pictured and posters Maria had gotten from storage. They had painted the bedroom a sort of cloudy blue with dark brown detail.

It was all very posh for Maria, she had never needed to decorate a home before, but with their help they were done soon enough.

Of course Sherlock had been aloof as possible, deciding to run around London catching criminals. Truthfully, Maria couldn't argue at all. She thought that he barely considered her as a colleague, let alone a friend. She didn't expect him to involve himself in her life at all, which was perfectly fine for her.

'_Aye, ye think that my dear...' _said the little voice in her head. _'Shut yer gob, I dunno what I feel these days. Everythin's so new teh'me.'_

At the moment she found herself reading on the couch in her living room. She had recently come back from work and felt like relaxing a bit; she had nothing better to do anyway.

She was having a nice moment when suddenly her door was thrown open. Sherlock stood in the doorway, holding open the door.

"John! John?" He yelled before seeing Maria sitting there on the couch, crouching defensively with a book out in front of her, ready to use as a weapon.

"Maria, is John in here? I need him." he asked.

"No, he's out with Mary. Didn't he tell you earlier?" she asked while lowering the book. Sherlock just waved off the idea. _'He must have been thinking then.'_

Sherlock had stopped and was now glancing around the flat. He hadn't seen it finished yet.

'_She takes her books very seriously, doesn't she? Oh, and look at those medical charts." _he thought while he scanned the room. What interested him was that there were no pictures, nothing from her childhood. There were things from all over the world, probably from places she had visited, but there wasn't anything from Scotland. Nothing.

"Wha' d'y want?" Maria asked, relaxing herself and standing up fully.

"Hmm, that's inconvienient-" he said distractedly. He suddenly moved in to the fireplace and picked up an old decorated skull. Intricate patterns were carved all over it while overlaying patterns were painted on top.

Sherlock picked and pointed at it questioningly; surprised that Maria would have something of that value. It looked well worn, unlike everything else in her flat, so he guessed that she had saved it from her old flat.

A small smile crossed her face, remembering that Sherlock had his own skull down stairs.

"An old gift from a visit to Mexico a few years back," she explained.

"Mmm, well. It's a nice specimen. Wonderful artistry."

"Well, I'd hope so. It's my most prized possession."

"Really?"

"Yea, is it tha' hard to believe?"

"You don't seem like the person appreciate these artifacts."

"Shut it, I've read up on them well enough. It has some good memories behind it."

"Hmph, sentimentality is useless."

"It is not. I-I'd rather have something like this to remind me of the better days then the bad." She said more quietly, remembering the trips, all the good memories she had gained. Sherlock eyed her silently, it was sometimes hard to remember that someone so secluded like her had once traveled the world.

After a moment of silence Sherlock suddenly looked at her, a mischievous look in his eyes.

'_He has an idea, oh no 'es got an idea.'_

"Are you hungry? Of course you are, you've been working all day and haven't gotten a good meal since Wednesday. That isn't very healthy, is it?" he said, forgetting the previous argument.

Maria looked at him before snorting at the irony. Apparently Sherlock wouldn't eat at all while on a case, sometimes starving himself for days on end. He wouldn't sleep either; she had seen the light from down stairs on at ungodly hours, suspecting it was Sherlock.

John was forever concerned that one day he would just faint while running after a murderer or while being held at gunpoint.

Maria looked him over, from what she could tell he wouldn't be doing that any time soon. His whole body language was buzzing with energy, like it normally was when he was on a case. Still, her medical side told her to watch out for him, what he was doing was pretty dangerous, even if it was helpful.

"Dinner?" he asked suddenly.

"What about it?" Maria asked slowly, not really understanding the question.

"I am asking you to dinner. Will you go or not?" Sherlock explained simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Maria stepped back a bit, surprised at the request. She knew Sherlock well enough to know that he didn't just ask someone to dinner, there was a motive behind it. _'What's he up to... Oh th'case! He was lookin' fer John fer a reason."_

"Sherlock, is this for the bell tower murder case? Why can't you just go by yourself?"

He smirked as he saw her figure it out. She was a brilliant woman, one of the brighter ones he had ever met, even if she was a social hermit.

"Well, yes. I need someone with me, I'm going undercover and I would look suspicious at a high-class restaurant by myself."

"I-I don't know. I'm not used to going out like that. I'd probably just be a burden."

"Come on now, you'll be fine. You've, uh... you've been a gr-great... ur... help till now. Good work..." He said, not used to encouraging people. Maria softened a bit and blushed. She wasn't as useless as she thought she was.

"Fine, 'ow can I pass up a good meal."

Sherlock smiled, excited to get down to business.

"You've got twenty minutes. Wear a dress." And with that he turned and swiftly left the flat, making his way back to his own so he could prepare.

Maria glanced at the clock, thought about if she even had a dress, and then proceeded to clamour around the flat, trying to look presentable.

**xXx**

**Author's note: Awkward chapter was awkward. I'm sorry, that was just odd for me to write. I think it came out okay but I can never get the hang of these transition chapters. **

**It's also hard to explain Maria's emotions right now. Before she was just depressed and cold, now she's starting to slowly thaw. She's feeling happier and a bit more secure. Still, she doubts herself and has all these new and mixed emotions she hasn't really ever dealt with. She still can't really come out of her shell so she's also holding back. Arghhh. I'll get it.**

**Sherlock was also odd to write... I hope he didn't sound too funny. I don't really know how he would slowly start to get to know someone, or even start to like them. **

**Please review so I can find out how I did. Criticism is great.**

**Cheers, **

**Elleari.**

**(Oh, and yeah, Maria's getting fancy next chapter. I'm going to have fun with that.)**

**(And I still haven't figured out the bat names, it didn't really pop up. I'll get it in soon enough though.) **


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter X – Reservations **

**xXx**

Twenty-two minutes later Maria found herself in 221b's living room, waiting for Sherlock to come out of his room.

"Come on, now you're the one that's late." she said, leaning towards the hallways so he could hear.

The only answer she got from him was a quiet mumble from behind the closed door.

After another moment and some shifting, he emerged. His head was down, trying to see the tie he was trying to put around his neck.

"Must I wear a tie? I looked fine as was," he mumbled.

"If I have to wear a dress, you have to wear a tie." retorted Maria placing her hand on her hips.

He glanced up at Maria, his breath catching a bit at the sight. He hadn't seen Maria in anything more than a vest, as she normally preferred big woolly sweaters. Now she wore a dark simple lace summer dress with a pea coat on top. It was well structured and showed off her figure, her hair was put up in a lazy bun, letting him see the undertones of her hair color.

He stood frozen, watching her. _'Why would she hide behind all those clothes? She's very... attractive.' _He admitted, confused with his actions. He shook himself mentally before he could start to blush. Smothering any emotion, he put his thoughts in the back of his mind. _'There's a case to focus on.' _

"The dress isn't even semi-formal." He commented impassively. _'It does suit her, though...'_

Maria scoffed a bit, plucking at the seams of her dress. She was excited to help out with a case but she was nervous about going out to such a posh restaurant, she wasn't used to it.

"Doesn't mean I'm comfortable in it," she replied.

Sherlock started to fiddle around with the tie again, trying to tie it properly. Maria stepped forward and took it from him. She straightened out the tie and started to tie it properly.

Sherlock was still, noticing her distinct pine smell she always seemed to have. The way she dressed was plain but it the color choice (deep navy blue) accentuated her pale skin and dark ginger hair.

'_Useless information.' _He told himself, trying to focus.

Maria finished with the tie and stepped back to admire her work, oblivious to Sherlock's thoughts but trying to focus herself as well. He looked good in a suit, she had to admit. He was lean and tall, like a swimmer but not as tan. He had this dark demeanor surrounding him, warding most people off. She hid a blush as she looked him over, deeming him acceptable for the public.

She really didn't know what she was doing but she had seen Victoria do it so assumed that she could just copy it from her.

As they finally exited the flat and went down the stairs, Mrs. Hudson walked in.

"Yoo-hoo! Are you two going out? Oh, I knew you'd got together, you're both so smart!"

Surprised, Maria sputtered a bit, uncomfortable with the attention. Sherlock just gave her a cold look, not really understanding what she meant by 'together.'

"This is for a case, Mrs. Hudson. We're no'together." Maria tried to explain.

"Whatever you say, dearie," she said while giving Maria a knowing look.

"Mrs. Hudson, please." It was too late; the kind old land lady had already walked off, leaving Maria to grumble behind her. Maria glanced at Sherlock who was just staring down the hall, confused with the situation.

She huffed, she really didn't like when people just assumed things about her, especially if they weren't true. Sherlock probably didn't even know what was going on, the bastard.

Maria made her way quickly down the stairs and out the door, calling a cab. She didn't understand why she felt flustered but she hated the feeling.

Sherlock watched at her, confused at her mood change. Though, before he could follow Maria outside John walked in, carrying some groceries.

'_Now he shows up' _thought Sherlock.

"Hey, Sherlock. Was that Maria outside? She was all dress-" he started before noticing what Sherlock was wearing, making the connection.

"Are you two going out? What's going on?" asked John who was now properly confused. _'Where they going out together? Is that even possible for them?' _

"I told you about this. I'm going undercover so I can catch the bell tower murderer." A thought popped into Sherlock's head. _'Oh, is everyone assuming we're _together_ together? Is that why Maria was upset... makes sense.'_

"When did you say this?"

"About three hours ago."

"Sherlock, I was with Mary the whole day!" exclaimed John. He knew about Sherlock's tendency to block everything out for hours, if not days, but it was still annoying.

"Well that's why I had to get Maria to help..." Sherlock said, a bit too carefully.

John looked his best friend over. Sherlock never included anyone except John in these sorts of missions.

He had recently started to include Maria into more and more of his cases, even if it was just to look for some obscure fact. He had seen something odd in the way Sherlock watched Maria, how he would sometimes even soften.

And now, they both were going out, all dressed up. Even if it was just for a case, John couldn't help but smile. Normally Sherlock would have just waited for John, or tracked him down.

Sherlock glanced at the door, wondering what Maria was doing, if she had gotten the cab yet. John saw the glance and figured it out.

"You fancy her," he said suddenly, startling Sherlock.

"Of course not, you just weren't around to help." argued Sherlock, not seeing the connecting from the case to John's accusation.

"Sure, sure. Good on you, mate." said John, not believing his friend.

"I'm married to my work, John. Now if you'll excuse me, Maria's gotten a cab." huffed Sherlock, annoyed at his best friend's persistence.

Sherlock now knew that he had a heart, but it didn't mean that he had to feel like everybody else did. He didn't do 'relationships.' Having friends was a big enough challenge sometimes.

Sherlock found Maria waiting in front of Baker Street, holding a cab while looking quite impatient.

"I thought you said we had a schedule, we're going to be late." She said while getting in the cab, Sherlock doing the same.

"We do, but I needed to speak to John. Anyway, I've planned around this problem, we're fine." he said before giving the address to the cabby.

"John's back?" asked Maria, she hadn't noticed the man.

They drove in silence for a bit before Maria turned to ask Sherlock something.

"Why didn't you say anything to Mrs. Hudson back there? Now she thinks we're together." She was still a bit miffed about that. She hated when attention was brought onto herself, especially if she knew that the misunderstanding would just cause trouble later.

Still, the idea of being with Sherlock wasn't what annoyed her. She knew that, even if she didn't want to admit it.

Sherlock sighed, understanding the frustration.

"Mrs. Hudson won't just change her mind; we'll have to wait for her to move past the phase. She would have assumed it at one point anyway. When John and I first met her, she thought we were gay... still does a bit. Leave it alone and she'll move on." Pausing a moment, he looked to the window.

"Anyway, it's highly unlikely I would get together with someone like you." He meant no offense, but like he often did he hadn't really thought through his explanation.

"Thanks- " said Maria, insulted by his un-thoughtful comment. _'But then again, he was right. Why would someone love a broken mask like me?'_ she thought, becoming a bit glum.

She knew for most people he was unapproachable, but at least he was handsome.

Sherlock glanced down at her, seeing her mood fall a bit. Not knowing what to do or if he should really care he just turned and looked to the front of the cab.

The rest of the trip was silent, the noise of the passing city settling around the cab's occupants. Their minds drifted to the task at hand, there was a murderer out there and they were about to find the evidence needed to condemn him.

**-x-**

Eventually the cab slowed and pulled up near a little street. Apparently the restaurant, Benvolio's, was an expensive Italian restaurant. It was about a block away from where the cabby had parked but Maria could see it clearly.

Along the patio, pots with pointed and manicured bushes in them sat in neat rows. Lights hung from the rafters, giving the place a warm glow. The front was supported by Greek arches, the whole four story building decorated beautifully.

Maria stared up and the building, shifting nervously in her seat. Sherlock was texting on his phone, seeing if everything was in place. He saw her fidget and recognized the signs of anxiety. Looking her over, he tried to figure out why she felt like that, normally she was so relaxed.

He realized that even though she had traveled the world, fought in a war and been through so much, she wasn't used to this type of social life. She was always relaxed because she kept inside her comfort zone, rarely straying out. Her abused life had shoved the worst of society's people down her throat and now she didn't trust anyone.

Maria was a floater. She didn't belong anywhere, no matter what her abilities proved. She was confused, her emotions mixed as she tried to get through life. She had potential but she was afraid, blocking everything out.

Looking down, Sherlock realized he had unconsciously placed his hand on her leg in comfort.

Without realizing she relaxed, remembering that there was someone to help her along tonight.

Sherlock looked at his hand curiously; he normally had such good control over his body.

Finally Maria drew in a deep breath, steadying herself and wiping the emotions from her mind.

"Are we ready?" she asked, looking to Sherlock who had already drawn back his arm and had gone back to checking his phone.

"I know the owner, he owes me a favor. I've been following the suspect for about the week. When I realized that he would be coming here tonight I thought it a perfect opportunity to stop him." He explained.

Maria hadn't heard a lot about this murder but thought she'll just ask once they've settled down in the restaurant. She didn't trust people, but when it came to cases she put her faith in Sherlock Holmes.

"Will there be anyone to accompany him? Is he armed normally?" Maria asked seriously, her army training peaking through a bit.

"I'm expecting him with company but I cannot tell who. Probably a female companion, wealthy... some sort of trophy wife. I can't say about weapons; he's unpredictable." Sherlock said before moving to get out of the cab.

Maria followed out the other side. Sherlock straightened his back and looped his arm with hers, trying to act dignified.

Maria saw the act and couldn't help but giggle at the situation. Sherlock glanced down, seeing her laugh and smirked as well.

As they walked towards the door Sherlock leaned down and whispered into her ear.

"Remember, above all else we're looking for evidence to convict the suspect. His name is Gregory Numbar. He worked at the bell tower as a security guard. All the connections fit and the evidence leads to him. There was a specific type of ash that was on both the victim and Numbar's uniform. He knew the man that was killed, am old fishing buddy from the records I could gather." He explained.

Maria had stiffened, listening to the explanation but also realizing how close he was. Shaking herself mentally, she reviewed what she knew. Sherlock had shown a picture of Numbar in shorts and fishing gear to her earlier in the week.

He was tall but scrawny. In a suit he would look intimidating with his dark complexion but Maria saw the odd tilt to his legs and the awkward way he stood. He was strong enough but he had slight muscle deformities. Not enough for a normal person to notice but Maria had recognized it immediately.

"Alright, but wasn't the body dragged up the steps to the tower? A bit of a big job for the man."

"Possibly, but Numbar was the one to kill him. We can interrogate him later. Come, we have reservations."

They headed into the restaurant. It was an expensive place with booths lining the side; it reminded her a bit of the little Italian restaurants. Maria could recognize the quality put into this place, the lighting fixtures where crystal, the wood was mahogany and the waiters and waitresses even had to wear silk gloves!

The whole restaurant was bathed in a gold light, a romantic ambiance laced throughout the place.

She puffed up her chest a bit, gathering a bit of confidence. She would prove herself to be useful, even without using the full extent of her abilities or training. She would not be called a freak or a coward tonight.

As they approached the maître de, Maria glanced around the room, trying to read as many people as she could.

"Reservations?" he asked.

"Two seats under the name of Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock responded coolly, always the professional.

The maître de looked at him before nodding, recognizing him. Sherlock had preplanned the mission the best he could.

A waitress brought them to their table; it was a booth that was positioned three seats away from the kitchen, on the same wall of the entrance. The hallway to the washrooms was next to the kitchen entrance, probably joining together a bit further, leading to a back exit.

Sherlock had picked wisely, Maria could see everything that went on in the main room, down to the smallest movement. She wondered what he could see, what patterns he could deduce.

As the waitress settled them in, she gave Maria a jealous glare while glancing at Sherlock.

'_I'm not even dressed nicely-' _thought Maria. _'Oh! She must like Sherlock then. I wonder if she could handle him if she knew.' _

Maria chuckled at the thought.

"Something funny?" asked Sherlock, confused.

"No, no. I was just observing."

Sherlock nodded, not really understanding.

"Pick something to eat. Mr. Numbar will be here in about half a hour." he told her.

Maria looked at him suspiciously.

"Ye know, you should probable eat somthin' too." she suggested. Sherlock only frowned.

"Slows me down." was the only answer she got before he went to check his phone.

Once another waiter came over Maria ordered some food for herself and a coffee for Sherlock. He looked at her in annoyance.

"You haven't eaten in a while. At least the coffee'll warm ye up an' give you a boost. I don'want you droppin' on me if we have to give chase." reasoned Maria.

Though, as she thought about it logically, why did she care? She rationalized that it would be inconvenient if Sherlock picked tonight of all nights to decide to crash. She was a doctor, after all.

Maria didn't want to bother Sherlock so she just looked around the room, playing her deducing game.

Everyone was very rich. A few tables down there was a business dinner while even further down a couple were about to rip their own throats out. The rest of the restaurant seemed peaceful enough, all couples or small get-togethers.

Maria tried not to think of the fact that she and Sherlock were suppose to act all 'couple-y.' Instead she just twiddled more with her dress's hem.

Sherlock looked up from his texting to see Maria just sitting there, casually thinking. He watched her, seeing her more clearly than he had in a while. He had been so busy that he hadn't seen her fully in weeks. Though, he was glad that his new neighbor wasn't one for social interaction; it would have been annoying if she was like the other women.

She was smart, extremely smart. She could follow what he said, even correcting him sometimes which annoyed the hell out of him.

'_Still,' _he reminded himself, _'she's a normal person. She's just well educated, millions are. Boring, not my concern,'_

Though, a little voice nagged at him. _'If she was normal, then why didn't the facts add up'? _He had met people that he couldn't deduce because there was nothing there but she was something new. He could deduce her well enough but it all didn't add up.

He had noticed it the first time, she was hiding something. A detail from her past that linked her to the rest of her life.

Maybe she wasn't as boring as he thought, just a bit quiet. She wasn't all that bad; she was an expert in medicine and had openly agreed to help him.

With John being out more and more with his newest girlfriend, Mary, Sherlock didn't have an assistant all the time. And like he said all those years ago; he _needed_ an assistant.

Eventually the food came. The waiter slipped a little note to Sherlock, telling him that Numbar was coming. He pocketed the note and glanced around the room.

Maria began to nibble her food, not really interested in it. It was a bit too expensive for her anyway. Looking up, she saw how Sherlock was acting, how he had stiffened and now watched his surroundings carefully. Something was up.

'_Too excited to eat, still needs the adrenaline rush from the army days.' _ Sherlock observed, glancing at her and making sure she was ready.

Suddenly, he saw a man and a woman entre the restaurant.

It was Mr. Gregory Numbar. The game was on.

**xXx**

**Author's Note: **

**Thank you again to all who reviewed! I love reading them, even if there are only a few. **

**So, things are heating up a bit. Something is happening! This is going to be kind of a pre-major development plot so you can get to know the characters and they can be established. **

**I'll add more detail to the case in the next chapter, don't worry.**

**Oh, and I think this is what is called a cliff-hanger. I've never written one before so I'm not sure. **

**I recently got a comment saying that at first the commentor thought that Maria would be a by 'Mary-Sue.' It was interesting because I didn't know what that meant. I looked it up and gladly the commentor said that Maria wasn't like that. **

**So yay for those things, ah... yep.**

**Reviews are always great and make me squeal internally.**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI- What the Wicked Hide Behind the Masks**

**xXx**

"Maria, he's here." warned Sherlock, referring the Gregory Numbar, the suspected murderer.

The man and his date where brought further into the restaurant and seated in a booth. From where Sherlock sat, he and Maria had a perfect view of the two suspects.

'_At least the waiters did their jobs.'_ He thought while glancing at Numbar. The man looked over-confident but Sherlock could see how his eyes swept across the room nervously. The man looked from one table to another, slowly nodding while placing his coat on a rack. _'He's paranoid... good.' _

He watched Numbar, seeing what he would do but as the man's eyes crept closer to where Sherlock sat he realized he wasn't blending in enough. He was well known, even if the viral celebrity status had faded considerably.

His eyes darted around the room, trying to find a way to blend in. Everyone else was talking to their companions, eating or drinking. _'Oh right, the talking...'_

He turned his eyes away and glanced at Maria who was nibbling on a little potato.

She noticed and placed the fork down, half of the potato still on it.

"You know, this place is great an' all but I'm 'aving trouble figurin' out what this sauce is made of. I'm not even sure if I'm eatin' right. Isn't a lady suppose'd teh be all dainty?" she said, feeling awkward in such a high society place.

"You're doing fine. Just... don't pull attention to yourself." reassured Sherlock.

"Alright then."

"And... ah, well don't be alarmed but we need to interact more. Numbar is here and he's suspicious." advised Sherlock, trying to keep Maria from freaking out. From his experience, when given shocking or dangerous information to females, they tended to overreact.

He was surprised, though, when all Maria did was look up and scan the room. He saw her stiffen, not in fear but in preparation. Apart from that her exterior didn't change. _'Impressive training.' _

"Well, I'm not one for conversation but I don't think I'll mind talking to a, ur..." started Maria catching herself.

"To a what?" asked Sherlock.

"...um, a friend?" she answered weakly, not knowing if it was acceptable to call him that, or if he even wanted to be friends.

"Quite." Was all he said, a little smile on his lips as he accepted the alliance.

"Now, we need a topic so a discussion can be held."

"Right..." said Maria while thinking over some topics. _'Sherlock hates mundane conversations and we need to look occupied...' _she though. Out of nowhere she began,

"When's yer birthday?" she spurted out.

"Is that really necessary?" countered Sherlock.

"You wanted to talk about something; at least it's not the weather."

"Fine, when is your birthday then?" asked Sherlock, avoiding the original question. He was too busy watching Numbar to think up a better topic so birthdays it was.

"Oi, I asked first."

"I'm paying for dinner."

"Touché" grumbled Maria, giving up.

"Well?" said Sherlock, waiting for her answer. He was actually a bit interested; new knowledge was always nice, especially if it was about someone he thought of as a friend.

"Alright, my birthday is in two weeks actually. On the 13th of March."

Slowly she added,

"I don't celebrate it though. There's no reason to celebrate alone, it's only marking you one year closer to death." She finished a bit too quickly, trying to avoid the subject as best she could.

Sherlock only nodded, understanding the logic. _'Alone...'_

Soon enough they moved onto other subjects. Sherlock snorted at one point when the conversation leaned towards the weather.

"Always weather."

Maria gave him a confused look but brushed it off. She looked around the room, checking up on Numbar and the woman. Nothing had happened.

"So, what can you deduce about this crowd?" asked Maria suddenly, not knowing why she hadn't asked earlier.

"Mmm... the couple in front of us." He started, looking them over.

"They're obviously married. Successful business owners from across the ocean, probably from the north... they deal in oil and petrol. By the wear and tear on the rings,- I'd say married about 10 years. Judging from the wife's wrinkles and botox... 11. The wife is fidgety and awkward towards the husband. He on the other hand is cold. The wife's ring isn't as polished as the husband's; obviously she doesn't take care of it. She isn't happy with the marriage-"

"It's an arranged marriage." Interjected Maria quietly.

"It's an arranged ma-" Sherlock trailed off, looking at her in surprise.

"And how would you know?" he asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"It's..uh... nothin'. Don't mind it." corrected Maria quickly. She had slipped up, letting her mind wander off next to Sherlock's.

"No, no... Continue, explain." He said back, curious as to how she had figured her deduction out. He knew she was smart but he thought that she was just well educated.

Maria looked at him, not sure if she should continue. Analyzing him, she saw that he held no malice in his eyes, he was just curious.

"Aye... for one, their rings. They're plain but with a silver band. The couple is Native American, specifically from the north of Canada. In some of the modern families use these types of rings to identify arranged marriages."

Sherlock looked at her, surprise written on his face. She had observed all of that so quickly, with minimal help and with little time to think it over.

"How do you know that they are Natives?"

"It's obvious. Skin tone, eye shape, hair texture and color. They are short and have developed fat deposits underneath the arms, near the vital organs. You can see it easily from my side, the dress the woman is wearing reveals a lot." She started, growing a bit more confident. "She isn't overweight but any fat she has is evenly distributed, indicating the glands and storage are well developed and are used regularly. It's- uh... genetics."

"And what about the rest?" asked Sherlock, pushing her to see what she could do.

"They are definitely Canadian, you can see by their mannerism and etiquette. The woman is wearing an open dress with no coat, so they're used to the cold. You're right... they've just arrived from a flight. You can see that the man's hair, though well kept, is greasy around the base of the neck. He hasn't had time to tidy up because he let his wife have more time in the washroom."

Sherlock gaped openly, trying to compose himself as best he could. He narrowed his eyes, looking her over more. Had he miscalculated her abilities? _'Can she deduce?'_ he thought. Her techniques were similar to his but she barely glanced at the couple. He could make great leaps in logic for basically nowhere by observing but he had to watch the occupants. _'She gets the missing facts from somewhere else... her memory! She observes but fills in missing details from her own knowledge. She must have an amazing ability to recall such detail. Is that why she is so well versed in medicine and science?' _

"Mnemonic memory?" he asked her, it was the only explanation.

Maria smiled at him sadly, trying to hide her fear. He was digging too deep again. Of all the people she knew she really didn't want him to think that she was a freak.

He could see anything; make deductions without any previous thought. All he needed was a moment to see all the facts. She relied on her memory to fill in anything she needed... it felt like cheating sometimes. "Sorry, look, forget it. What about this Gregory Numbar? What are we tryin' teh get?" she said, changing the subject. Gladly Sherlock took the bait, all too eager to focus on the case.

"He's the killer, but I can't be sure until I see how he acts. From what I've seen so far, he _is_ guilty." He said before sighing.

"I need to find a motive, though. That's the only thing that's stopping Lestrade from bringing him in. The gap in the logic... otherwise Numbar will walk away free." Glancing over to where Numbar sat, he watched the woman.

"The female... she looks familiar though. She- Oh! The victim's wife! That means she was having an affair with Numbar! To get rid of the competition he killed him..." Maria smiled, glad that things were moving along.

"Hrmph... I thought it would be more interesting." finished Sherlock, looking disappointed.

"He's a psychopath, but it's just a simple killing. But... it doesn't make sense! Why the Notre-Dame theme?" he said, his actions becoming a bit erratic as his mind went back and forth through the possibilities.

"Sh-Sherlock?" asked Maria suddenly, she looked extremely anxious.

"What?"

"Numbar's looking right at us. We've got teh leave nauw, please?" she said in a hushed but urgent tone.

Sherlock's eyes widened, he had gotten a bit too caught up and hadn't checked the man's position. Glancing into his glass to check Numbar's movement, he saw the man staring right back at him and whispering to the woman, Mrs. Littwickett as he now identified.

'_Fool! Getting distracted.' _ He scolded himself.

While Sherlock and Maria had been talking, Numbar had recognized the detective. His face had been all over the news a few years ago and after a big scandal he had disappeared. The crime lords of the world still whispered his name but never brought attention to it. Sherlock Holmes.

Maria felt the adrenaline start to pump through her veins, the recognizable feeling of imminent danger tingling the back of her mind. She swallowed thickly, repressing the sick excitement she felt. She cursed at herself, she shouldn't have distracted Sherlock, it was all her fault.

Sherlock watched her, mistaking her discomfort and concentration as fear. He looked at her softly, not understanding why he worried.

"Go to the washroom. After two minutes take the back door and meet me at the front of the restaurant." He said sternly.

Maria nodded briskly and started to get up, grabbing her purse and jacket while blocking out any emotion she could.

Sherlock reached out a hand, stopping her for a moment.

"Be careful." He said quickly before he turned and focused on his plan. He needed to call Lestrade and get the waiters to block the exits. The detective should be there by the time they had detained Numbar.

As Maria left, she glanced back at Sherlock. Although he could be an intolerable machine, he was still human. Even if other people didn't see it, Maria saw the little things that he did, showing that he cared. Someone just had to be able to observe a bit more carefully.

As Maria headed for the washroom, she looked around nervously. She had a bad feeling about the situation and she knew that if they didn't get it under control soon, something bad would happen.

She got to the back hall that led to the washrooms and suddenly heard the clicking of footsteps. Maria tensed but kept walking; she knew that someone was following her. It was undoubtedly Numbar's girl... the victim's wife. Maria searched her memory and got a name; Natalya Littwickett.

Maria could hear her high heels clack along the stone floor, they were careful but with a sort of determined or crazed persistence.

As she listened, Maria's madness grew, her anger bubbling for the pit of her stomach.

'_That bloody bitch! She's th'whole reason th'poor man was __**killed**__!' _she thought bitterly.

It was odd thought, the victim was much older that Mrs. Littwickett... _'Oh... 'course, tropheh wife.'_

Things started to fall into place as she made her way down the long hall, the washrooms not far away.

As she reached out to open the doors she felt the footsteps behind her increase drastically. Maria kept moving into the washroom, trying to hide in one of the stalls until the woman went away.

She had miscalculated how fast Littwickett could run in heals and suddenly she was overtaken and slammed into the washroom wall.

Littwickett pressed her forearm into Maria's neck and restrained her as she hissed.

"You! What the hell are you doing with your little boyfriend!" she spat. "Greg is saying you're here to follow him!"

Littwickett pressed her arm into Maria's throat, choking her. She gurgled, trying to answer. When she noticed that Maria couldn't talk, she loosened her arm a bit, digging in her nails to keep her still instead.

"Who are you? You better back off, you little bitch," continued Littwickett, sneering in fear and distaste.

"Argh- it doesn't matter who I am. We've already got th'evidence teh arrest ye an' yer pitiful boyfriend. An' if yer smart enough, you'll 'hand yerselves in nauw." countered Maria, not noticing the woman's previous boyfriend comment.

Mrs. Littwickett kneed Maria in the stomach in anger, knocking the wind out of her.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Greg promised me a fortune, more that my late husband could ever give me. He knows the right people." she started, bragging.

"If you don't want to die, just leave us alone... or I'll have to kill you." Taking a deep breath, she tried controlling herself.

"Oh, it's bigger than I thought, isn't it? That clears up some questions." Maria continued, an even tone now in her voice.

"Oh, and dear... it would be extremely ambitious of you to try to kill me."

Maria was a soldier, a heartless monster that had been trained into submission. If there was one thing she knew how to do, she knew how to fight.

Her abdomen was bruised, she had multiple scratches and her wind pipe would need to be checked out. And yet she felt no pain.

Icy adrenaline rushed through her veins, her body had missed this action. She was trained to control herself but she wouldn't be beat into the ground.

The pitiful woman was giving her all the answers she needed.

She smiled slightly; her mind was working faster that is had in a long time. It saw that there was more to this case, something hidden. Mrs. Littwickett was right, there where big promises being thrown around here.

The woman didn't seem to notice Maria's sudden change in demeanor.

"This is so~ much bigger. You have no clue! The black dragon is everywhere, they helped us and they'll help us again!" she bragged, not noticing that she had given out a vital piece of information.

'_That's it!' _thought Maria, figuring everything out.

Now she just had to get the information to Sherlock.

She huffed a bit, having had enough of this situation. Out of nowhere, she stepped on Mrs. Littwickett's foot with her own heel. It hurt her for long enough to push her away, giving Maria room to maneuver.

"You little-!" hissed the woman as she swept a clawed hand at Maria franticly.

Maria felt the sting of the contact, putting that on the list of injuries as well. She was so rusty; her guard had been dropped, letting in the woman's attack. This is what happened when you tried to live peacefully, it never worked.

A vicious smile spread across her lips. Without hesitating Maria sidestepped, kicked Littwickett's legs from under her and pushed her down. She held her down by the shoulders and hair, the woman's feet falling into an awkward position.

"Remember this; ye shouldn't 'ave even begun this. I was still normal before ye decided t'get greedeh! Then I'ad to help Sherlock an' look at meh nauw! I dinnea regret it but nauw what? **Th'Monstahs Back!** I've 'ad teh let it out to **protect him **an' it's **ALL YER FAULT**!"

Maria was disgusted, absolutely and truly revolted. Of all of the pain the world had made her go through, this was something new. All this greed and lust; murdering a man. She now saw the war that resided in London, the thing that Sherlock fought against every day.

Her mask was gone, her soldier side out again. Her body felt like cold steel, the freak spilling out from inside her.

All of this happened because she had helped Sherlock. She had opened up to him; let him and John in to her world as much as she could. She stared down at the pathetic woman at her knees, the woman whimpering in defeat.

'_An' ye know what. I am okay. I will fight for Sherlock and I won't mind it.' _She decided, thinking of how John and Sherlock, even Mrs. Hudson, had helped her so much in the past three weeks.

She looked down at Natalya Littwickett, striking her nerve quickly and knocking her out.

She shook herself, stretching out a bit before moving out of the washroom. She felt odd, like she finally understood something. The only real word describing the feeling would have been 'concrete.' She felt like she knew what she was doing again. The army had beaten a sort of order into her, making her control herself, but once she had left the structure slipped away. _'Don't think of that now, it's not the time.'_

Rubbing her neck a bit, she heard her phone buzz in her coat. She took it out, reading the text.

Where are you? Hurry up, Lestrade will be here soon.

-SH

Looking up, she headed out the back door that was at the end of the hall. Breathing in deeply, she relaxed a smidge and she started down the alley. It smelled odd, clouding her head with the smell of rotting things.

At least it was cold, the moon partially visible up above. She saw a familiar figure at the end of the alley, its figure silhouetted by the street lamps.

Tiredly, she called out, "Sh-Sherlock! Is tha-"

She never got to finish. Another figure came out from the shadows, grabbing a hold of her waist while putting a cold gun to her head.

'_Numbar...'_

**xXx**

**Author's note: Action! Drama! Huzza! **

**How did I do? I think I wrote this very well. I showed my dad the fight scene and he told me I was a very violent child. I told him I knew and didn't care. Then I laughed manically like HeadOverHealsInHate had taught me. **

**And yeah, Cliff-hanger! **

**Does Maria's soldier side make sense to you all? I hope so, it is a bit sudden.**

**Thank you for the reviews! There aren't a lot but even so I appreciate it. **

**Thank you ****TheGirlWhoImagined ****and ****HeadOverHealsInHate ****for the continuous support.**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII – Soldier, Soldier, it's Time to Wake**

**xXx**

Maria felt the familiar chilling sensation of the pistol pressed against her temple. Numbar's arm slowly wrapped around her waist, all too close for comfort, restricting her from movement.

She breathed in, calming herself. The closeness of the murderer wasn't helping the ugly shivers from running up her spine. Biting her lip, she started to think.

Simply, she assessed the situation, stiffening in caution. _'Semi automated. Glock manufacture, 10mm auto bullet. Hasn't been fired, still cold to the touch. Probably fully loaded. User; weak but experience.' _

At the same moment Sherlock ran towards the sudden attack, surprised by the sudden movement. He had left the staff to watch out for Numbar, apparently they hadn't done such a good job. _'Never let other people do your job.'_ He scolded himself. He had been busy for only a second and now he had this mess to take care of.

"Maria!" he yelled worriedly. He tried to assess the situation but could barely see in the dim light.

"STOP!" yelled Numbar, his grip tightening around Maria. Sherlock skidded to a halt, only a few feet away from Maria. Cursing, he looked them over while trying to find a weak point in Numbar's defense.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, Mr. Holmes." said Numbar from behind, leaning into Maria a bit, making her tremble horribly. She hated human contact, especially with someone like Numbar.

"I've called the police; we know you killed Leonard Littwickett. They will be here any moment so do us all a favor and just hand yourself in." said Sherlock coldly.

"No can do. If they arrive, I'll shoot Ms. Ashdown here."

Sherlock flinched slightly. Lestrade would be here any minute and he had no way of getting Maria out of this mess until then.

"But then again I'll probably just kill you anyway." said Numbar, getting cocky.

A tense silence stretched around them. Minute passed minute as Sherlock tried to figure out a way to free Maria. It seemed useless from the outside, though. He couldn't approach her without Numbar firing.

Suddenly Sherlock groaned in annoyance, making Numbar tilt his head in confusion.

"I've had enough with this case. There's nothing here! It's all so simple and straightforward, you're just making us run about. Just let her go, I've got no time for this." said Sherlock, agitated with the situation.

Maria could only sigh; of course he thought this was boring.

Sure he was getting exercise and his adrenaline was pumping but his mind was no doubt screaming at him to get it over with and get a new puzzle. He hadn't gotten the information she had; he couldn't have made the connection yet.

She glanced at Sherlock, catching his eye. He stared at her, reading her until a flash of surprise crossed his face. Her body was still, inhumanly so. Her eyes, though, where darting around and then settling, a cold fire burning in those evergreen orbs. He saw what she was about to do and started to step back a bit.

"Oi! What ar-" Numbar started, never getting to finish his thought.

Maria had enough of this. She decided to take the situation into her own hands before it was too late.

Placing her leg back a bit, she rammed the back of her head into Numbar's nose, disorientating him and releasing Maria from his grimy grip. The hand holding the gun was raised to try to balance him, though without much success.

She elbowed him in the stomach, winding him and making him stumble back even more.

Spinning with the extra momentum she had, she threw her arm out and punched Numbar right across the face. He fell over, releasing his gun as he reached toward his jaw bone, undoubtedly broken.

Maria shook her hand, it wasn't broken but it was torn and there would be bruising. Seeing the gun drop, she scooped it up and threw it to Sherlock who caught it without missing a beat.

With her heeled foot, she stomped down on Numbar's arms, breaking them or at least incapacitating them until further notice. While he was still disorientated and screaming from the pain, she stepped up to him, placing a heeled shoe right across his neck where the left carotid artery would be. She let her foot sit on top of it; her foot ready to spike and puncture his neck if he moved.

Sherlock cocked the gun in his hand, pointing it at Numbar.

Though the pistol was pointed at Numbar, Sherlock's eyes were on Maria. He was, for the first time in a long while, speechless and completely dumb-founded. He was now thoroughly impressed with her; he had started to forgot that she was an ex-soldier.

He watched her wearily, noticing the signs her body gave off. There was the slight twitch in her arm, the burdening emotions she tried to hide and the extreme soldier-like focus.

Those details confirmed that she was holding the conscience, intelligence and curiosity that made her think over what she was doing. She was no danger to any innocent man, as far as Sherlock was concerned.

The curiosity reminded him of his own in many ways, the only difference being that even though it was there, Maria hid it like she was ashamed.

Was this what she was hiding? Her abilities... the memory, the training, the curiosity.

Had he greatly underestimated her?

"Pl-Please, have m-mercy! Ggrrhhhng-" begged Numbar before Maria lowered her heeled foot a bit more, pressing it against his neck until the skin was turning red.

"_You_ didn't..." she hissed back. She stared at him for a minute, hatred in her eyes. Finally, Maria turned her head away to look down the long alley, gazing around and watching Sherlock carefully. Numbar wouldn't be going anywhere with his injuries.

After a moment, sirens could be heard. Maria glanced up at Sherlock, looking for confirmation. He had ordered the restaurant to call the police as soon as Maria had left for the washroom. He nodded his head, confirming that they were now on their way.

Soon, after a minute or so of waiting tensely in the gloom of the dark alley, four cop cars surrounded the area. Sherlock glanced back, seeing Lestrade make his was towards them. He headed towards them but when he saw the predicament they were in he started to jog and pick up speed.

"This the guy?" he asked once reaching Sherlock.

"Obviously" the consulting detective droned, a bit distracted to answer fully. "Oh... ah... mind the arms when moving him. I don't want him screaming any more, it's quite annoying."

"H-his arms?" Lestrade asked, confused with the statement.

"Yes, his arms are broken."

"Bu- What?" a shocked and exasperated expression crossed Lestrade's face.

"Self-defense." answered Maria calmly. The detective inspector could only shake his head, not wanting to push the situation.

"The restaurant said that he had a woman with him, where is she?"

Sherlock looked confused, he had forgotten about her for a moment. She had followed Maria to the back but he hadn't seen her since she first left.

"Check the washroom." replied Maria in an icy tone, glaring at him slightly. Lestrade looked at her, startled at her reaction. _'Did she do all this?'_

Glancing at Sherlock, Maria saw him nod. She let go of Numbar, stepping off of him and quietly moved over to where Sherlock was.

By then a few other officers had appeared holding handcuffs, ready to lock up Numbar. They moved swiftly, restraining the murderer and went off in search of the wife. They would soon bring them to Scotland Yard for registration and the normal procedure.

"We'll have to go to the Yard. They will interrogate Numbar there and I need to see the process." whispered Sherlock, ushering Maria carefully out of the alley.

Without thinking he put an arm across her shoulder, trying to calm her out of her stony state. It didn't seem to work very well though; she was less tense and said nothing to no-one.

Soon Maria brushed Sherlock off, leaving him to watch his walked straight out to the front of the restaurant and called out for a cab in a hardened voice, one that would even scare Sherlock if it was directed at him fully.

Once they got into the cab, Sherlock directed the cabby and sat back. Looking at Maria, he saw that she was completely stiff, completely changed from the secluded but easy-going librarian he was used to.

'_I'm not concerned...but what happened for her to be able to do this?' _he thought. When he had first met her about a month ago he had deemed her normal, boring even. Sure she had an interesting past but he had thought it didn't concern her now, she had chosen to leave it behind.

Looking at her now, his chest did a funny thing. It tightened and then twisted. He looked down, not understanding what his body was doing. _'Stupid... I must have heartburn or something...' _

He watched her eyes, remembering that they where called the gateways to the soul. Even if he knew there was nothing spiritual about it, he could still read a person's emotions in great detail from the slightest detail of the eye.

She was thinking, concentrating on the case no doubt. But there was a flash in her eyes that told him that there were deeper emotions.

The fierce gaze she held with the front seat told him that she was fighting something and that she had fought it for a long time. Though, he couldn't figure it out yet, he didn't have enough data.

'_I've underestimated her, she's a mystery...'_ he thought before catching himself. _'What am I doing? This is irrelevant. We've caught the criminal... but something doesn't add up. I need more time.'_

**-x-**

As Maria walked up the front steps of the New Scotland Yard, she glanced up at the large building, never expecting she would one day enter it. She might have in the past, for one reason or another, but now the task felt a bit daunting. She had thought she didn't really have anything to do with that lot.

Quietly she took in the surroundings, habitually looking for threats and taking in the new details. It was past 12 o' clock but the streets were still busy. Lamplight lit up the sidewalk and blocked out the starlight. Only the moon could be seen peaking behind a few clouds. It was chilly outside but it comforted Maria oddly, steeling her and settling her racing mind.

Sherlock was already at the entrance, glancing back at her with an odd expression on his face. He looked indifferent but would occasionally lightly grimace, like he was fighting something or thinking deeply.

He raised an eyebrow, silently telling her to hurry up; he wanted to go see Numbar soon.

Seeing him wait for her, his hands behind his back and his shoulders straight, made her relax a bit. By now it was a familiar sight; he had always been an enigmatic man, it was a comfort to see him so focused on the case. Since meeting John and him, they had become new constants; their hectic habits reassuring her.

Maria felt guilty for being so aggressive back in the alley, she felt like a monster. She was grateful that Sherlock hadn't thought her barbaric when she had all but killed Numbar and Mrs. Littwicket.

Maria had hoped that she wouldn't have to go back on her controlled lifestyle; she wanted to be seen as normal for long as possible. Though, it seemed she had had no choice; she wouldn't let her friends be hurt, even if she had to open herself back to the mad little scientist turned soldier that she once was.

At the moment she felt fresh, a sort of awareness filled her being; one that hadn't been there for a long time. No emotion clouded her judgement, a stony lock on her heart. And yet, after the imminent danger was over, she still struggled against it.

She was scared of herself deep down, she had been taught to blend in and just live.

In the end, though, she begrudgingly admitted that instead of pushing herslef away she needed to embrace it, at least for now. There was still work to be done.

Catching up to Sherlock, she nodded to him grimly while she entered into the Yard for the first time.

Sherlock went up to the front desk and greeted the secretary. It seemed that everyone knew about him here, even the lonely janitor that worked in the corner.

"I've been associated with the Yard for the past 9 years, at the very least." said Sherlock plainly, almost as if he could read her mind.

"When they are out of their depth, which is always, they consult with me."

He tried to get Maria to snap out of whatever trance she had put herself in. Of course, she was too busy staring out of the window to really notice. She was once again watching the busy nightlife of London town.

He grumbled, hating being ignored, and moved through the back offices. Maria followed him, keeping quiet and tried not to bring attention to herself.

Her aggression was ebbing, along with the adrenaline. She could feel the pain from her wounds, ignoring it for now but she knew she would have to wrap up soon. She was running on military training at the moment, her mind working on overdrive, but even that couldn't last forever. Nothing was fatal, but if they weren't treated soon they would get very irritating, at best.

Sherlock led them both to an office near the back of the 4th floor. It was a bit bigger that the surrounding few cubicles, identifying its owner as someone in the higher ranks. She saw the little plaque on the door and in the office, both having Lestrade's name on them.

The detective was still on his way from the restaurant, probably being held up by traffic. _'Come on then.' _thought Maria.

"Make yourself at home; Lestrade will be here in...24 minutes," estimated Sherlock.

Maria nodded, moving to a chair while putting her coat up on a rack. She started to sit down but groaned painfully, her abdomen still hurt from the run in with the wife. Her throat hurt as well, along with the deep scratches on her shoulder. _'And now the pains start teh get worse...'_

"Damn..." said Maria tersely. She searched her bag for a napkin or some bandages but found nothing. Sherlock noticed her pain and briskly left the room. Maria watched him in confusion, not knowing where he went, she hoped that he would be back soon.

As Maria was feeling her neck, he suddenly reappeared, holding a moist towel and a first aid kit, a smirk of success on his face.

The corner of her lip twitched in reply, not really reaching a smile. She went to reach for the kit but the elongated position only made her abdomen stretch in pain.

"No." Sherlock motioned her to sit back; he had learned first aid from John years ago. He wasn't as good as the good doctor, not even close, but he still could put in his own stitches.

"Fine..." she said hoarsely, seeing immediately that the argument would be a losing battle.

He took the towel, swiftly but gingerly cleaning out her shoulder wound while using gauze and hydrogen peroxide to clean it out.

While he wrapped it up he asked, "Where are your other injuries?"

"T-There wer'no more." Maria lied, not wanting to trouble him anymore. She'd take care of the rest later; he had to focus on the interrogation.

"This will not benefit anyone if you lie. You sat down in pain, holding your stomach and later while I returned you rubbed your throat. Now, I'll ask again. Where are the other injuries?" he said sternly, having no patience for her lying.

He didn't like to see his friends hurt; if she hadn't already taken care of Numbar and Littwickett he probably would have. If he was anything towards his few friends, he was protective.

"...I was kneed in the abdomen, right above the solar plexus. Littwickett wasn't strong enough to cause long term damage but I expect at least a week or two until full recovery. M-My windpipe is possibly bruised... it hurts when I speak so I expect so." She paused, indicating the slight redness at her neck. "My knuckles might be fractured; the bone is, at minimum, bruised. The rest are minor scratches and scrapes, nothing to bother with."

Sherlock nodded. He couldn't do anything about the solar plexus or wind pipe, for now he could only give her some aspirin and some ice. John would look at her better when they got home.

With surprising delicacy he took her hand in his, inspecting the bruising carefully. He saw other scars around her knuckles, no doubt from previous fights or accidents.

"Impressive right hook." He commented.

"I try," said Maria weakly, watching him test out the proximal phalange bones and their joints.

"The pointer finger's metacarpal is slightly fractured at the tip; the other two surrounding it are bruised but will be ok." Sherlock said. Maria nodded in response, suspecting as much.

Tentatively, Sherlock took the towel and ran it over her knuckles, wiping away the blood and grime. It stung but Maria was infinitely grateful for his help.

She watched him work efficiently, first making sure that he was doing the task correctly and then she found herself just staring.

He moved gracefully when he walked but Maria now noticed that even his smallest gestures had confidence in them. He knew what he was doing, and if not he learnt rather quickly.

She blushed, not knowing why her mind went in that particular direction. She put it down as envy; simple envy, which, deep down, she knew was a lie.

She felt comfortable in his presence; she could let her guard down while they were alone. She figured that if he was going to judge her, he would do it in his own time or not at all. She let out a slow sigh, trying to get her muscles to stop being so tense while at the same time trying to find some peace.

When Sherlock finished with the knuckles he lingered for a second before he abruptly moved onto the scratch on her cheek from Mrs. Littwickett. He kneeled down and put one hand on the side of her head to stop her from moving.

He knew she didn't like to be touched but the flinching got in the way of his work. Maria herself felt a bit awkward, his hand basically cuffing her ear so she wouldn't squirm. _'If I wasn't hurtin' so bad I mightea laugh at this.'_

The scratch wasn't deep but blood was still caked around it, at one end a crimson line ran down from the cut indicated where the blood had run free.

He wiped at it gently, his expression showing innocent concentration. She stared at him again, blushing a bit and hoping he didn't notice. _'What in the world is wrong with me? Focus, ye foolish lass.' _She told herself, feeling more and more awkward.

Sherlock finished up and put a bandage on the cut, smirking at his work. He stood back up and plopped the bloody towel onto Lestrade's desk. Maria raised her eyebrow at the sight, not appreciating the half-hazard mess he made.

"That is what he gets for being late," said Sherlock, staring intently at the clock.

Maria smiled faintly. "Thank you."

Suddenly two officers burst into the room. One was a dark woman with frizzy brown hair while the other was a man with a sort of ratty appearance. They both eyed Sherlock with disdain, ignoring Maria for the moment.

"Anderson, Donovan. What do you want?" asked Sherlock, going frigid while staring them down. Maria could tell that there was a history behind them all.

Sherlock looked at them, for the most part emotionless, but his arms twitched in hatred. Anderson shuffled awkwardly while Donovan stared straight ahead, ignoring his hate. They both held guilt over something they did, supposedly to Sherlock. _'Not the time to find out though...' _

"Freak," acknowledged sourly.

Maria stiffened at the comment, remembering one of her childhood nickname. She felt herself stiffen again, becoming silent and cold, weary of the two officers. She looked away from them, staring at the wall as she felt her hands shake. She was losing it, wasn't she? Was this what happened when negative memories about her past were brought up? She had no business being here... but she knew that it was all her fault, again.

No one loved her and now people could see her true self, they could judge her again because she had decided to put herself out into the world again. _'Oh dear, what next?'_

A cold hand suddenly appeared on her shoulder, bringing her back to reality. Sherlock had seen her retract to Donovan's comment, it had apparently affected Maria. _'Something to do with her past?'_

Maria looked up to see Sherlock looking down on her, a raised eyebrow inquiring if she was okay. She nodded, confirming that she was fine but didn't speak. She didn't feel safe... she felt ashamed.

"Lestrade's brought back Gregory Numbar; they're in the interrogation room right now. He said to come fetch you." continued Donovan, she hadn't even noticed Maria yet.

"On our way," said Sherlock, collecting his gloves and coat from Lestrade's desk.

"Who's she?" asked Anderson, eying Maria suspiciously as she collected her own things.

"Why's she here. Did you pick up another stray?" added Donovan bitterly, noticing the librarian finally.

"She's a consultant of mine, she helped me catch Numbar." explained Sherlock while ushering her out of the room.

"Yeah? But who is she? We can't just let civis walk around here all willy-nilly." added Anderson.

Maria suddenly stopped walking, breaking out of her thoughts for a moment as she turned to the two officers. Sherlock continued down the hall, not noticing the loss of his consultant or the officers.

"I am Dr. Maria Ashdown, released army doctor and current conservator at the Wellcome Library. Show some respect, I just took down to wanted criminals!" she said firmly, glaring at the both of them. Anderson seemed to step back, letting it drop. Donovan on the other hand relented, not wanting to be ranked by some introverted hermit. She stepped forward, getting into Maria's personal space while glaring at her.

"Yeah? Why where you released? You're too young to have gone through all the training. Where you too scared or incompetent to finish? Did you give up? I've seen death, hunny, I work in homicide, so maybe you should show _me_ some respect."

Maria's fist clenched, she hated when people judged her unfairly. The woman in front of her looked very dim witted, even if she was a policewoman. Maria straightened her back, ignoring the pain and gave the woman a dark look.

"I skipped grades during my education and I was rushed through the army training. I was released after I had defended a medical unit from an enemy, killing most of them. I took a near-fatal injury t'the leg and was incapable of further service. I was discharged wi' honors.

Ye might work 'omicide but I've swam'n my comrade's own blood, seen 'em cry out while I tried to 'elp 'em. I've seen and made so much death tha' all the bodies 'ave turn into featureless blurs. Now, I'm askin' again. Show. Some. Respect."

Donovan was left staring dumbly while Maria turned briskly to catch up with Sherlock.

Anderson seemingly weaseled himself away at some point, afraid of the woman's quarrel.

Maria took a breath, calming herself and returning to her previous thoughts. John was right; it felt good to pull rank again, even if it was informally.

After walking around the building for a few moments, she finally found the interrogation rooms. Stopping herself before entering, she steeled her mind and tried to organize the information she had gotten. She had to see Numbar again so she could ask him about what she now knew. She had to know, had to tell Sherlock.

Maria was suddenly reminded of what she thought of as the madness, the freak, which had been buried away long ago. It had broken out and shown itself again.

In confirming her theory, Sherlock would no doubt find out about her abilities and in turn have a lot of questions. Not knowing what to do, she stared at her feet.

'_He'll think I'ma monstah, a freak... even for his standards. He'll tell John an' Mrs. Hudson an' then they'll look at meh all funneh. I`ll have to become invisible...or 'ide. But- I like the feelin`o`all this. To be able to see everything an`help Sherlock in his cases.' _swallowing hard, she decided, _'I-I need to find equilibrium.` _

She bit her lip, she would have to share her deductions and then there would no going back. Sherlock would no doubt start to poke into her past. _`But... when did I get so fond of them all?' _

**xXx**

**Author's Note: Erm, yep. I'm not even sorry. (I don't have much to talk about a.t.m.)**

**Reviews are appreciated and criticism shows that you care. **

**Cheers,**

**Elleari.**

**Oh, and let's pop in another disclaimer, shall we?**

**I do not own anything that is associated with Sherlock Holmes BBC and the original books. The characters created for this story specifically do belong to me, respectively. For entertainment purposes only.**


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter XIII – Stay a While, Don't be Afraid**

**xXx**

"Come on, Numbar's already in the interrogation room. Lestrade's in there too." said Sherlock suddenly, his head poking out from a door. Maria yelped in surprise, her eyes wide with shock, and her heart beating quickly as she was rudely yanked from her thoughts.

"Bloody 'ell..." she started, trying to calm down.

Sherlock winced when she jumped, he should have known she would be touchy, she was probably still in shock. He stepped out, putting an awkward hand on her should and hoping it would reassure her.

"Anderson's in there too... don't listen to him. He has the IQ of a fish." said Sherlock lightly, trying to calm her while changing the subject to the current problems at hand.

"I'm fine." said Maria in a tired voice, calming herself.

"Come on then!" exclaimed Sherlock, marching her into the dark room that connected to Numbar's interrogation room. He was buzzing with excitement; something was nagging at his sub-conscience, telling him to look deeper into the case.

As Maria's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she memorised the room and stored it in her ever growing bank of knowledge. This was, of course, the first time she had ever been into the Yard.

Sure enough, Lestrade was leaning up against a desk, watching Numbar with a concerned look on his face. Anderson stood not too far off, looking over some files.

"He's not giving us anything useful. If we don't get something out of him soon his layer will just take him out..." informed the inspector, looking over to Sherlock as they entered.

"How could he have killed Leonard D. Littwickett? Look at him, he's so scrawny!" said Anderson, confused about the data.

Maria made her way over to the far wall, gazing steadily at Numbar as she connected her story of what happened. She saw the bits of ash underneath his drumming fingers, the tell-tale signs of an old gun-shot burn. She smiled wickedly in the back, preparing to give her observations.

"Good thinking, late as ever... but you're getting better." commented Sherlock on Anderson's thoughts.

"Really?"

"No."

Maria smirked, Sherlock really did hate Anderson. From what she had seen, the man was just a low grade cop. He was a weasel, and a stupid one at that. Sure, maybe he was an okay bloke but she couldn't be bothered with him.

"Anderson, why don't you go and help Donovan with whatever you were...accomplishing... before," ordered Sherlock.

Anderson sputtered at the mention; apparently he had just been caught for doing something wrong. He blabbered about not knowing what Sherlock was talking about while a blush crept up onto his cheeks.

Maria turned her attention to him for a moment, wanting to know what he had done. Looking back on what she had seen with Donovan, the answer came quickly.

"Your deodorant, it's for men." she said, shocking Anderson as he mentally slapped himself. "And you hair, it's parted at the side but it's obvious that you normally part it in the middle. A rush job then, same fer that Donovan wench." finished Maria, trying to stifle a laugh.

"That's the second time he made that mistake, tut tut." said Sherlock, smirking.

"Alright, Alright! Let's get back to business, shall we? Numbar'll walk free if we don't catch him on something here. We have nothing except for ash to link him to Littwickett's murder, we can't just go on that!" grumbled Lestrade, getting everyone's focus back.

Maria looked over to him, still staying in the back.

"Yes we can," she said. Sherlock looked at her questioningly. _'What does she know?'_

"Do you have a com. system linking this room to the interrogation room? I need to speak with Numbar." she asked.

"Yeah, here." said Lestrade, handing over a microphone. Maria switched it on, getting Numbar's attention.

"'Ello? Does this work? Right, so 'ello, it's me! Just a quick thing so I know I'm on track." started Maria, looking at Numbar steadily though the glass. He was looking around wildly, scared of her voice. His arms hurt like hell; a nurse had come a long a loosely wrapped up each in a cast. Maria hadn't out-right snapped the arms in half, but there where hairline fractures.

"Yeah! What d'you want!" he called back.

"Oh, just one thing..." said Maria, grinning manically.

"**Black Dragon.**"

The response was immediate. Numbar's eyes grew wide, his pupils dilated in fear as he started to struggle. He knew the name, and that was all that Maria needed. She handed over the microphone back to Lestrade.

"What did you do?" asked Lestrade, confused.

"We aren't dealin' with simple revenge murder. Sure, Gregory Numbar shot and killed Leonard D. Littwickett, but look at him! He couldn't have dragged Littwickett up to the top of the tower, or dressed him up. Littwickett would have struggled, causing injury to Numbar at the least. There weren't any wounds before I got to him, he was fine. There was too much effort put in in the first case for this to be just a simple killin'. Clearly Numar is a thinker, no' a fighter."

Sherlock's eyes peaked in interest; Maria was right, he had thought it possibly but without Maria's knowledge he couldn't make the final connection.

"To begin with, Natalya Littwickett was the one to set everything up. She and Numbar over there were lovers. The Mr and Mrs where having problems, probably financial. Littwickett owed someone a dept, I can't say to whom though. Once the Mrs found out, she wanted out of the marriage, she was just a simple trophy wife. She couldn't though; Littwickett was a clingy man, wasn't he? To get rid of him, she hired Numbar and his thugs to kill 'em."

"But why ask him? Thugs?" interjected Lestrade.

"Because Numbar was a gang man! He loaned Littwickett the money in the first place! Oh, Brilliant!" said Sherlock, understanding dawning on him as he followed along.

"Exactly. He was with the drug gang 'Black Dragon.' He got his hit-men to dress Mr. L up and drag him to the tower. Numbar did shoot him though, the ballistics report confirmed that.

And the ash. That's the final proof. The ash is from a specific fire used to smoke the Black Dragon's signature drug. It was found on the body, and on Numbar's security seat. You'll probably find traces all over him now." she paused; looking over the room's other occupants.

"Oh, and check your files. I think the missing drug gang from the bombing might be this one. They used the same gun to kill Kate." She finished off as a shocked silence stretched out before her. She watched everyone steadily, seeing what their reaction would be. She knew she was right, but she still didn't know how they would react to seeing her full mental capabilities. She hoped at least Sherlock would understand.

As the moments passed, her confidence waned, her mind racing to figure out if she had said anything wrong. She started to retract back towards the door, bowing her head.

Though what she had said was important, she hated having attention drawn to her, especially if it was something to do with her little 'gift.' She knew of their previous opinions of her, they thought her a easy-going social hermit. This side of her would be a shock to them.

In the army's... therapy... they had drilled her into the background, she was told that standing out would only bring disaster.

'_Did I do something wrong? A-are they scared of me now? Please. Please don't hate me, don't shun me...'_ she started to think miserably. The silence continued as nobody moved. Anderson had even popped his head in to listen. He now half-stood in the doorframe, a spooked expression on his face. Sherlock's gaze was steady, thinking over what she had said and not paying attention to her growing tension.

Suddenly, Lestrade whispered, "Dear god, not another one."

Maria, of course, didn't know he meant another Sherlock. She thought he meant another freak, a psychopath, another monster. She mistook his meaning, making her tense up considerably as she shut herself away. The whispers of her childhood started to filter through, causing her to flinch back, ready to run.

She remembered how the town had called her a liar when she knew she was telling the truth. The others didn't listen to her; they didn't see what she saw. They called her a freak when she would simply retell a day in detail, her memory accessing the information easily. The mothers called her a witch, telling their children of the mad girl while the fathers shunned her. The children pinched and the teachers scolded. And all around her there was still silence.

She looked around the room, her nerves finally getting to her as her vision blurred. Everyone was staring at her, their eyes boring into her, judging her.

"S-sorry. I-" her voice caught finally. She rushed out of the room, trying to get away from all the people. Her skin crawled, she was tearing up inside. She was exhausted, everything spun. Her mind was clouded; she couldn't focus as the emotions caught up to her.

She ran out the Yard building, grabbed a cab and directed the cabby to Baker Street.

As he drove, Maria tried not to cry as she sniffed miserably. _'Nope. Nope. Nope, nope, no !I shouldn'tae trusted 'em! I knew wha' would 'appen if I showed'em what I could do bu' I still did it! Now... now... wha' now?' _she thought, her past experiences flashing across her mind.

She should have never left her flat. Her solitary life was much better than all this... confusion. All the emotion that she couldn't control where driving her up the wall with uncertainty.

And then... Maria _wanted_ to help Sherlock. She wanted to be friends. A tear slipped out, knowing that now he'll probably think of her as some unstable psychopath. She sure had acted like on back at the Yard.

She slammed the side of her fist down into the seat in frustration, startling the driver.

**-x-**

When Maria's cab finally reached Baker Street it was nearly one in the morning.

It was a quiet time of night; Maria couldn't see anyone along the street, no matter what direction she looked to. Normally, this would have been an ideal time for a stroll but as Maria was exhausted, emotionally and physically, she couldn't care less.

As she got out of her cab, she quickly paid the driver and made her way to 221's front door. As she glanced up to the building's windows, she noticed a light coming from John's room and the living room. _'Oh, he must be worried about Holmes. Has he heard of what 'appened?' _she figured.

Making her way to the front door, she quietly opened it and snuck in. She really didn't want to talk to anyone at the moment, let alone someone as kind as John.

Creeping up the stairs, she was careful to avoid the one squeaky floorboard. Though, as she passed 221b's door she cursed silently when she noticed the it was open. John was no doubt sitting in his chair, watching the door worriedly. _'Sometimes I take the fact that we've come to trust each other for granted...'_

In the month since Maria had first arrived at Baker Street, she had adopted her neighbor's habit of leaving the flat door open or unlocked. It created a united sort of air in the old building, making everyone seem at home no matter where they were.

Maria now tried to rush past the door so John wouldn't noticed. But, of course, she hadn't noticed the crumpled door mat so she stumbled and tripped. Cursing in pain, she heard John move to the door.

"Maria? Wh-? Where's Sherlock?" he asked frantically. When he saw her injuries he became even more frantic, imagining what might have happened.

"What were you two doing? Are you okay?" he continued.

Marian winced at the concern, if only he knew what she had done. Sherlock would undoubtedly retell the story when he came home. He would tell John of her barbaric actions and then her cowardly behaviour. Still, for now she had to pretend everything was fine.

"Uh, aye. This is nothin'. Weren't ye supposed t'be with the Mary lass?" asked Maria quietly, accidentally letting her accent slip more than usual. It seemed to be happening a lot more lately.

"Oh, well... we both have to work tomorrow so we didn't want to... uh... exhaust ourselves too much. Dinner was great, though." A small smile played on John's face as he tried to hide a blush. The date really had gone well, especially since Sherlock hadn't interrupted it again.

"T-That's good! Now, if you'll excuse meh, I'm exhausted." answered Maria curtly, trying to give a smile. Sadly, she was cracking and a small tear slid down her cheek. John was so nice, even Sherlock had been growing on her. She had hoped that she would get to meet Mary one day, but she really didn't trust herself anymore.

"Maria, are you okay?" asked John.

Since Maria had started talking to John, he knew something was wrong.

Ever since learning of Sherlock's little plan, he had been concerned for Maria and his friend. I was the first time Sherlock had taken Maria out on a case and it didn't help that it was on such a dangerous night. He had thought that since Maria had become such a recluse, the case would be too much for the quiet woman.

Sherlock had texted him about their plan, updating from time to time. He had mentioned that the murderer was captured, but had alluded to any details. He had thought all was well, he hadn't expected Maria to return like this, her emotions in tatters.

'_Where was Sherlock anyway, damn him...'_ thought John.

"I'm fine, really." said Maria quietly. "Good-bye, doctor John Watson." Her tone held such finality that John couldn't help but fret for what it meant. One thing he could discern, though, is that Maria wasn't herself; her emotions were clouding her judgement. Her eyes looked haunted and he could only wonder what she was thinking.

Maria turned away from John and swiftly headed up the stairs. When she got to her flat, she locked her door and ran to her room. Grabbing a blanket blindly, she headed towards a little corner to the left that was cut off by the ceiling to make a little den.

She huddled there, still in her dress, and shook herself terribly.

She was battling herself; on one hand she knew she was being too emotional, she should give Sherlock and John the benefit of the doubt. But, on the other hand, from her past experiences, no one would care for her. Victoria was an exception, but one in seven billion didn't count, it was just luck.

She took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she opened up her mind. The only way to calm herself was to work her way through the mess that was her mind.

Slowly she closed her eyes, letting her conscience and sub-conscience drift.

Everything she had seen tonight, all the memories and facts that connected to each little detail flooded into her mind as she began to relive everything. Finally letting go, she let her mind do what it wanted. Whispers and screams from the past and present flashed in her vision as she thought through everything.

Sure, Sherlock could memorize anything he wanted, see any little detail and create links from the most obscure point, but he could control it. Maria could do similar things, specializing in the medical and scientific fields especially, but what she didn't have is control. He had developed his genius; he was in perfect control of his body. He could forget and sort as he chose; he had had time to learn. His life revolved around his mind and his abilities.

She, on the other hand, was only a slave to the mind. She was born with mental abilities, but instead of learning to control them she was forced to just shove everything behind a lock and key.

She had learned as much as she could, everything she might need in her old field, before she had closed the doors of her mind. She stuffed herself with information but never thought of learning control. She was still too young to know what lay ahead of her.

When she had begun to travel with her mother, she had promised herself to learn as much as she could so one day she could be useful and so that she could finally be respected and not called a liar.

This, of course, was before she was drafted into the army. When she was taken she had been trained in medicine, not like she had needed it, and was prepared as a soldier.

But, what differed from regular training were her 'therapy' sessions that were requested by her damned father. The military had seen her potential but some of them had also thought it interesting to see what a new method of physiological counselling would do to someone like her.

She used 'therapy' in a very loose sense. Maria had to admit that is was somewhat of a weaker mix between brain-washing, minor torture, and solitary confinement, among other medical treatments. It was close to crossing the ethical line but, as she knew very well, curiosity beat out moral in a thoughtful mind. It was done mostly in secret, most army officials didn't know about the expirament, but it was still happening.

Most of it took place in her third year of service. Though it didn't matter for the damage haunted her still today. She was a tough woman, but even she knew that the counselling had changed her horribly. When she left the army, she had regained some of her inquisitiveness, seen through her little mind games, but she never was the same.

The barriers had worked for a while, but like water, a memory barrier could only hold for so long. Each new experience added to her knowledge, making her mind work more and more.

When Sherlock had asked her to use her knowledge to help him, unbeknownst of what he was doing, he was making Maria stimulate what she had repressed.

Now, as she sat huddled in the corner of her supposed safe-haven, her mind was racing, reeling at every memory and fact. Calculating once again.

And even though she was breaking inside, she had to admit it felt magnificent to think again.

**xXx**

* * *

**Author's Note: And there is a conclusion to the introductory case, sort of. I hope in made sense, I really can't tell what other people pick up from my mind-full blather, let alone when I try to construct something solid.**

**The ending was basically an explanation of what had triggered Maria's breaking point and how her abilities where different than Sherlock's. **

**She's a feisty girl; she had lived through social hell-fire and war! But then again, everyone has a weakness.**

**Her life will make more sense as time passes in the story; it's going to be a developing thing. **

**Hope you liked it! Reviews are a wonderful creation and should be used!**

**Cheers, **

**Elleari**


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter IXX – Still Learning**

**xXx**

Downstairs John sat quietly in his chair, wondering about what had happened a few hours ago.

Maria had come home on the brink of breaking down with bruises all over her body and a wrapped up shoulder.

He had to admit he had been shocked, wondering all the while what had happened.

Her eyes had been frantic, her mannerisms cold and anxious. John had tried to help her but she had refused and instead opted to hurrying up to her own flat and lock herself away.

He had gone to check with her but he couldn't get a response from behind the locked door. Though he knew that she wouldn't do anything too rash, he was still nervous. He could easily see that she was in some sort of shock and was both mentally and physically exhausted.

It had been hours since the incident, the sun was already starting its accent into the sky. The clock read 5:23 in the morning, making John wonder once again how he could stay up that late, especially if he had to work later in the day.

'_What had they done?'_ he wondered as he drank his tea worriedly. He wasn't sure what to do now, this had never before happened to his new friend.

Sherlock still hadn't come home, probably running around somewhere in the city. For his own sake John hoped that he hadn't just abandoned Maria. Sherlock would have hell to pay if he did, though, even the detective wasn't that cold hearted.

He felt like a worried parent, both his supposed 'children' off doing who knows what. Sure, he knew full heartedly that Sherlock could take care of himself but what worried him the most was the way Maria had acted.

He was used to the easy-going and quiet, albeit intelligent, librarian. She was weary of people but in general had a sort of pre-occupied demeanor. She would rarely show enough emotion to worry anyone. He could see that her troubles were put to the back of her mind... but now...

'_But now... she was cold, paranoid... almost like she was having this great internal struggle. She was the exact opposite of what she normally acts like...' _he though worriedly while huffing in annoyance.

Suddenly, he heard someone enter through the front door and make their way upstairs. Soon enough Sherlock burst into the flat, throwing the door open with a great bit 'whoosh' noise. As he entered he quickly started to take off his coat, putting it away.

He was calm but had an air of satisfaction that he always got right after solving a case.

The detective walked into the kitchen, grabbed some tea and turned towards John, oblivious of how worried his friend was.

Seeing John, Sherlock smiled pompously while his eyes lit up. John, on the other hand, would have none of it.

"Where the HELL where you! What happened to Maria?" he began, firing off questions. Sherlock's eyebrow raised in confusion, not understanding his friend's sudden agitation.

"She came back early and looked like she was having a mental breakdown... which I think she did. What did you do?" when the doctor got no response, he tried again. "Sherlock! What happened?"

"What? I've done nothing wrong." answered the detective, baffled at his friends concern. John continued to glare at his friend, determined to know what had happened.

Sherlock huffed in irritation, rolling his eyes.

"I was finishing up the Bell Tower case with Lestrade, we had to track down the rest of the suspects. Maria had come home hours earlier after she solved it. There, happy?"

"Maria solved... what?"

"Yes. That's what I said, didn't I? She made the connection between Numbar and the Black Dragon drug gang. Afterwards... I don't know, she suddenly left." said Sherlock before a rare smile lit up his face, lost in thought.

"Black Dragon? Isn't that one of the gangs on Lestrade's hit list from the bombing case? One of the ones we couldn't get to?"

"Yes, yes..." Sherlock waved off, the previous case already forgotten. "But listen to this! Our little Dr. Maria Ashdown is a proper genius!" he began, shocking John. It was rare that Sherlock would call someone intelligent, let alone a genius. The detective smirked, pleased at his discovery.

"I don't know how I didn't see it before; I suppose she hid it well. But John! It's brilliant! She can actually see the connections! She has an absolutely brilliant mind; I think the street name for it is 'photographic memory'... though I'm thinking that she's developed some sort of mnemonic ability as well! " he jittered excitedly like a child who had found a playmate.

He was still annoyed that he hadn't solved it earlier. She was easy enough to read...though the data he got were just so mixed up that he couldn't connect everything. In the end he excused himself for the lapse in judgement. He couldn't get everything all the time, especially if the facts where hidden from him. _'Or completely incoherent unless actual put into the context.'_

"Sh-Sher, Sherlock, wait! Sherlock!" said John, trying to intervene.

Thinking it over, he wasn't that surprised to find out about Maria's gift. She had already been a medical genius when she had first met John, he had just assumed that it had faded in time; he had never believed that it was actually a completely different manifestation.

John shook his head in annoyance; he had to stay on topic.

"Maria just came home in the middle of a breakdown; wouldn't you think she didn't want you to find out?"

"Why ever not?" asked Sherlock with a blank look on his face, not understanding.

"Well, when you first met her she was so shy and introverted; wouldn't you think that she would want to keep some sort of talent hidden?"

"But she has amazing abilities! I don't know for sure but she undoubtedly has some form of eidetic memory. Why would she hide that?"

"Yeah, well how did she act after solving the case?" asked John patiently, trying to get his friend to understand. It was tough trying to chastise a sociopath.

"Well... It got quiet. I was thinking so I didn't really notice...but...oh. Silent; she was silent and she shook slightly. She had acted out of character and had eventually started to revert back to normal...but she became scared. She rushed out of the door... oh." said Sherlock, figuring out what John was talking about. Maria had a fragile past, probably due to her abilities, bringing them up had stirred any daemons she would have still had.

"I-I suppose the abuse made her repress it. I just assumed that she was well educated..." He scrunched up his nose a bit in annoyance. "Well, that's idiotic."

"Sherlock!"

"What?"

"You don't just say that! Abuse is a_ pretty_ good reason to hide her intelligence." countered John. Sherlock just stared blankly down at his friend; he was still confused about Maria's motives.

"I dunno Sherlock, when I first met her she was brilliant. I thought that she _was_ a genius back then. But... comparing now to back then she's a bit...empty." said John while thinking back to his army days.

"Something happened in the military then. That means... oh! Of course!" jittered Sherlock excitedly, he liked having a puzzle to solve. Even if it was about someone he considered a companion.

"Sherlock, not the time." interjected John, reprimanding the detective's almost cheery tone. Sherlock coughed awkwardly, guilt flashed for a second in his stomach. _'That's new...'_

"She looks at herself like a freak. When I asked her to help out with cases... she trusted us enough to start using her mind more. But when she confronted Numbar... she had to open up fully." said the detective more carefully.

"And then you lot crushed her hope when you reacted negatively." said John, a reprimanding expression crossing Sherlock's face.

"It was accidental, but still..." finished John, knowing where the story was going. He had studied psychology and trauma a bit back in his university days... _'Recognized the signs on Maria when she came home...'_

A silence fell over the two friends as they thought over what to do about Maria. They both cared about her. Well, for Sherlock as much as he could care about someone. _'Which concerns me how I can let someone in to my life so easily now ...'_ thought the detective.

"Poor girl... she thinks we're going to harass her..." murmured John, trying to find the best way to approach the situation. "We've got to go help her." he told Sherlock.

"John, you go."

"Wha-why? You're the one that can relate to her the best."

"I'm not... caring. You know that." said the detective awkwardly, distancing himself again. Sure he had friends but he was still uncomfortable at best when it came to more personal moments. And it became even more awkward with the opposite sex...

'_And yet you became friends with Ms. Ashdown.'_ a little voice nagged.

John looked up to his friend with sympathy, knowing his inner struggle.

"Sherlock, she needs you. Go!" said John stubbornly, pushing his friend towards the door.

Of course, it didn't work very well. Sherlock had the advantage, being the taller and more imposing of the two. He held his place stubbornly; all the while John trying to get him to shift.

"John-" started Sherlock before a noise from above their heads made them both freeze. There was a thumping and a loud crash, glass could be heard breaking. There was a muffled 'oof' that could only belong to Maria.

Before John could even move Sherlock was out the doorway and up the stairs, oddly worried about his friend.

"And who said you didn't care for her." said John quietly, leaving Sherlock to help Maria as he smiled simply at the retreating figure of his friend.

He could tell that the consulting detective fancied the woman, even if he couldn't admit it himself. She was the only one he knew that could match the consulting detective's intellect; or at least come very near it.

'_All in good time.'_

-**x **-

Maria had finally gotten fed up with wallowing. She slowly uncurled herself from the tucked-away position she had put herself in, a blanket wrapped tightly around her limbs. She wouldn't let her mind get the better of her, she could still function.

Slowly, she made her way to her closet and changed into her most comfortable tank top and sweats, wincing as she stretched her shoulder and abdomen a bit too much. Running her hand through her ruddy hair she blindly made her way to the kitchen.

Her mind was still in overdrive, assessing every detail around her flat and linking it up to whatever fact she could remember. It didn't help that she had plenty of international mementos.

'_That's IT! I've had enough!'_ she thought as she made her way through the hall. She had to stop her mind, it was driving her mad and a migraine was undoubtedly on its way.

Closing her eyes she breathed in deeply, hating herself for what she was going to do.

During her therapy, she had been given multiple drugs to depress her eidetic memory, experimenting on her limits. She had taken a few along once she left the army. When she had first arrived in London, she had put the few bottles she kept in the back of the pantry, swearing them off completely.

She hadn't needed any medication for years, relying on the mental barriers she had put up. But now... she didn't see much of a choice. _'Where did I put those pills?'_

As she was looking thought the kitchen's cabinets her mind swam from everything her memory was bringing up. _'I've lost all control, haven't I?'_ she thought sourly, trying to suppress and control herself.

As she was looking through the multitudes of canned foods and spices she had in her cabinets, she accidentally stumbled while reaching for the very top. While falling back her hand knocked over some more cans and boxes, creating a domino effect.

Maria landed on her butt with a big 'umph-' while jars and other items fell around her. Rubbing her hurting head she glanced over the mess, spotting what she was looking for. There behind a soup can was a little orange medical bottle, holding around ten white pills.

Taking the steps two at a time, Sherlock finally arrived in front of 221a's door. It was locked but with his swift hand he quickly picked the old lock.

Stepping cautiously into the living room he noticed the bedroom's door open, a blanket draped on the doorknob half-hazardly. He took in his surroundings quickly; making sure nothing was broken or dangerous. _'The bats should be back soon, it's already daybreak.'_ he thought.

He heard shuffling coming from the living room, no doubt from Maria. Making his way in that direction, he noticed that one of the top cabinets was open with its contents gone. _'Odd, normally she stores enough food to feed all of us for five days..._'

Entering the kitchen, he stopped in the archway where he finally spotted Maria. She was on her knees, reaching towards a little pill bottle while holding her head.

'_It's not an over the counter drug, nothing she would take for a headache.'_ He thought while identifying the medicine, _'__Cyclooxygenase-2, isn't that a memory represent?'_

He watched her for a moment while she sat there, trying to open the bottle with shaky hands, pausing a moment to rub her head. Sherlock's mind was curious as to what she would do, what would happen if she took it?

Getting up, she turned away from his direction, trying to grip the bottle more firmly as a little tear slid down her cheek. She hated herself for this... but she didn't want anyone to judge her again. _'DAMN IT! I don't want'teh lose them... Sherlock...'_

A strong pair of hands covered her own just as she was about to open the bottle. Sherlock had gone into autopilot, forgetting his curiosity when concern for the woman bubbled up. He wasn't about to let her do something she would regret.

Maria jumped in fright, yelping a bit while she spun around. Her face met a warm chest, her eyes peeking just over the shoulder before she bowed her head and caught her breath, burying her head into the warmth. _'Scared me half teh death!'_

Strong arms gripped her shoulders, trying to relax her. Though, they made no move to remove her as she gripped some fabric tightly.

"Mphm-fmph..." said Maria without thinking, trying to talk into the purple shirt.

She recognized Sherlock almost immediately, he was the only one who owned a purple shirt and smelt of old books, after all. _'What's he doing here? Didn't'ay lock the door?... just leave meh be...' _she thought sullenly.

"Come now, are drugs really the answer? Didn't that Yelling girl teach you anything?" said Sherlock calmly, pulling her away from him so he could get a better look at her. His chest constricted oddly when he saw her bloodshot eyes, slightly puffy from escaped tears. _'What happened to the soldier I saw a few hours ago?'_

Maria looked down in shame; she didn't want this but if she wanted to continue fitting in, she had to slow down her mind. _'Normal's boring...'_ a memory told her, making her wince.

"It's medical... 'tis different." She said quietly, glaring at her feet.

"So? This is a depressive drug, isn't it? Why would you..." started Sherlock, trying to figure out what she had wanted to do. He couldn't even fathom as to why someone would want to repress a gift like hers, he certainly wouldn't do it to himself. _'Well, permanently, that is.'_ Thinking, the little voice in his head told him to empathize for once, and so he did.

"Oh!- You wanted to slow down you mind, stop the flashbacks and memories. Is that how you acted normal before? You wanted to fit in... well, isn't that dull." Said Sherlock bluntly, figuring it out. Maria flinched away, ashamed of herself.

The detective didn't understand why she did all of this just to be... normal. There was abuse in her past, but she was strong enough to fight off even the worst of it. She looked like she had handled it well enough, or at least ignored it.

Thinking back, he himself had been ridiculed and bullied when he was younger. His parents, the tutors, the idiot boys from school, they just didn't get it.

Though, he had always fought them off with his brother, _'Oh. She was alone! All alone while being ostracized by the boring people. And then on top of that her father...' _Sherlock clenched his fists in anger at the thought of the man, it was his fault Maria had to suppress her genius, _'he pushed her into the military, and then they broke her.' _He rarely experienced emotion, but the woman in front of him was bringing out to worst of it. _'What is happening to me?'_

"They hurt you in more than one way, didn't they?" asked Sherlock.

Maria tensed up, trying to stop the painful memories from coming back up. It didn't work very well; her mind was still on autopilot. She heard people calling her a liar, an abomination, when she was just trying to tell them to LOOK! Taunting calls flooded her ears as she saw the faceless figures turn their backs away, ignoring her calls. And then her father... the hitting and the hurting. Memories of the military's therapy even forced themselves up and into her conscious.

Tears started to run down her cheeks. She slowly backed away from Sherlock, partially to block out what he was saying and partially to stop him seeing her in such a weak state. Her arms shook, the bottle was still in one of her hands.

As Sherlock watched the broken woman in front of him, something softened in him for the first time. The normally cold detective moved slowly towards her instead of walking away. He shuffled slowly, not wanting to harm the already hurting woman.

He really didn't know what he was doing. She was his friend, one that had become as close as John, but John was male. He never had to comfort him. This was a completely new territory, she was a friend but something was different and it bugged him.

Tentatively he approached Maria, not knowing what he was doing. He was reaching out a hand so he could take away the pill bottle, caution running through his mind as he remembered she could probably break it in a few seconds.

Maria flinched away, not wanting to be touched. She didn't know what to do anymore, her mind was out of control and was analyzing everything. She would later think over the situation and wonder at how patient Sherlock had been with her. He would normally never be this considerate; she was surprised that it was even possible.

Though, at the moment she feared that he wanted nothing but to mock her or wound her, she couldn't trust him. Memories flashed in her mind, reminding her about how he had helped her so many times before, even just a few hours ago. _'S-stop... I-I know. Wha-what do I do now t-though?'_ she thought.

Steeling herself a bit, she glanced up at the detective.

"Ye-you probably think I'm a monster... I-I'm sorry..." she whispered slowly.

"No!" said Sherlock suddenly, grabbing at the chance for her to open up. "You, ah... you're a genius. You, um... really are. You could be as smart as me if your life hadn't taken such a negative course. I...um... had my brother, the annoying git, to help me though my... difficulties. When I was a child." he said awkwardly, not used to comforting someone or opening up about his past.

"You had no one. Your mother was a business woman so she wouldn't be visiting northern Scotland very often, there wouldn't be any opportunities there."

Maria's eyes widened as she finally looked across the room at Sherlock. Her face was paler then usual with blood-shot eyes and puffy red cheeks from crying. She felt horrible and confused but her tears ebbed when she saw Sherlock's face. There was no bitterness or hatred. He didn't even look cold; he had a sympathetic look on his face.

Coughing awkwardly, he looked away from Maria. He was not used to showing such emotion so he shuffled from side to side. Maria's lip twitched in the smallest of smiles, appreciating his effort.

Seeing her calm down, Sherlock finally closed the gap and took her hand slowly. While Maria was distracted he lightly pried the pill bottle from her grip and rolled it away onto the carpet. She didn't even flinch.

Her mind raced between Sherlock's proximity and her own thoughts. He smiled softly, trying to assure her.

Finally she realized, _'Sherlock doesn't hate me. He's okay with what I am!' _A smile finally crept onto her lips.

She felt exhausted and flustered; the lack of sleep wasn't helping her position at all. She exhaled the breath she had unknowingly been holding, leaving her racing mind in the background for a moment.

Her knees wobbled and her head spun. Suddenly she felt something solid and soft catch her. She leaned against Sherlock, holding onto him as he manoeuvred her to the couch. He had frozen for a moment, shocked at the initial contact before realizing that he didn't actually detest it.

As Maria sat down on her couch, she rubbed her head.

"Please... make it stop..." she murmured, referring the war that still waged up in her mind. _'I'm so tired...damn.'_ She was fed up with all the nonsense but was too exhausted to recreate the barrier.

"Maria? Maria, look at me." said Sherlock, getting an idea about how to help her. Hearing his voice, she looked up at him.

"Maria, your mind is too cluttered; you need to find a space to organize all the information." he started slowly. "I'll teach you how to control what your mind puts out. Just hold on for a moment."

"L-Like your 'Mind Palace'?" she answered, referring to a memory technique he had mentioned more than once.

She remembered the times he had gone to his imaginary place to think over cases. In the month or so she had known him he had spent copious amounts of time sitting silently on his couch, not even moving a muscle. She had asked him once what he did during that time, in response he told her about the 'mind palace' technique.

"Yes, that will do. Though, you can make it whatever you want."

"Mmm" she hummed as she thought. "...a... a Library. A big Library, the one that Victoria an' I saw once..."

"Perfect. Focus on all your memories and simply sort them. Put them into the books." instructed Sherlock, not surprised at her choice of place. He figured that with her skills she could master the technique in no time; she had observed him for long enough as is. He watched her silently as she went through her memories and information, sorting them into the thought library.

Minutes ticked by as Maria sat silently on the couch. Sherlock could hear John down below, walking around to no doubt make some more tea. _'He drinks a ridiculous amount of that beverage when he's worried.'_

More time passed and he was growing concerned about Maria's stillness. He was starting to suspect that she had fallen asleep.

In Maria's mind, she had been silent. Concentrating furiously on the library she was building; it seemed to be helping quite a deal.

'_She didn't have any control over her mind...'_ he thought bitterly. _'Hmph. The idiots in the military should have taught her that instead of breaking her...'_

Suddenly Maria opened her eyes, relief obvious on her features.

"Well that took long enough." said Sherlock.

"Well you try sorting 30 years of information into a library in a couple of minutes." answered Maria, laughing at Sherlock.

The fog of all the memories had finally lifted, leaving her relieved for the first time in nearly 20 years. Finally she could concentrate better, though she still had to work on her library. She felt fresh, relieved that she didn't need to rely on blocking everything out all the time.

She let out a calming sigh, releasing some of the night's stress. Sherlock watched her carefully, wanting to know how she was coping. He was curious, never before had he found a person that had similar abilities as he.

"You have 30 years of memories stored up there?" he asked, confirming his theory about eidetic memory.

"Well, more or less. It's all up there, floating in my sub-conscious. Things trigger certain memories but... yeah."

"How would you deal? You would have all this stress... I'm surprised you haven't gone mad. You have the potential to be a psychopath. And then you went and studied in medicine! Learning all that... it was border-line dangerous." said the detective, partially to himself while he sorted out the new knowledge of his friend.

"W-well... not everyone can 'ave your control. I coped as a young'un and then I just... buried everything. I-I did practice in the library a bit though, on the occupants. Otherwise my mind would have just rotted..."

"Dull people there..."

Moments passed in a comfortable silence. Maria was slowly fading into sleep, finally letting herself drift. Sherlock thought wordlessly, as per usual.

He glanced over to the sleepy woman, watching her with interest. _'She really is a puzzle...' _he thought.

Finally, right as he was about to leave, Maria stirred and caught his trouser, stopping him for a moment.

"Thank you." she whispered. Sherlock looked at her in confusion, what had he done?

"Why would you thank me? If anything, we're just even now."

"Well... because you didn't leave me... or harass me."

Sherlock coughed awkwardly, not knowing what to do. He had a fuzzy feeling in his chest but didn't want to acknowledge it.

"Obviously you have some useful talents that are an asset to my work. I wouldn't get rid of someone like that."

"Of course, just a tool. I'm glad to be of service." responded Maria, her heart tugging sadly for a second.

"No, well you are a friend. I suppose." The detective corrected himself.

"A friend then." Maria smiled.

"Will that be all, Mr. Holmes?" she asked lightly as Sherlock made to leave.

"No... Good night." he responded without turning back.

Maria chuckled softly, letting herself drift off once more into an unbroken sleep.

Sherlock came back and made sure that her injuries were fine before heading down stairs to a waiting John.

As the detective made to his flat, a faint smile twitching on his lips. He had gotten another friend, one of the opposite sex no less! She was intelligent, a fighter and had special memory abilities, someone who could match up with his own intelligence.

'_Well... almost.' _

**xXx**

**Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to write this chapter, I've been busy and I was having a brain block. Mushy stuff doesn't come easy to me; I have to think over it a bit. Oh, and then there was the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. I loved them, though I'm still holding out for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who references.**

**I'm cheering for Canada and Latvia! (I'm a Latvian but I live in Canada.) Good luck ****mana Tevu Zeme****!**

**A great big thanks to all the reviewers, you know who you are! **

**I'm trying to rush through the note so I can post this chapter asap. (It`s quite a long one, isn`t it? Not the longest though.)**

**Anyway, thank you!**

**Reviews are appreciated, along with any criticism.**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari **


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter XV – What's in Those Dark Corners?**

**xXx**

"Where is Dr. Maria Ashdown?" asked a very irritated Sherlock Holmes, not wasting a second of his time.

He had spent all morning lounging about, bored out of his mind and wondering if John would be angry when he got back if he painted the walls again.

It seemed that since two weeks ago, when he had solved the Bell Tower case, the criminal world had gone silent. There was nothing, not even a petty domestic murder for him to solve.

Gladly near mid-day Lestrade had finally texted him about a recent inquiry that he thought Sherlock would like to look into. It did seem interesting, even thought there wasn't a dead body. _'... well, not yet.' _Not wasting a moment, the detective had practically burst out of the flat in anticipation.

At the moment he was standing in front of Wellcome Library's front desk, glaring down at a very scared and very timid intern.

"D- Miss Ashdown is in t-the racks, s-sir."

"Good," answered Sherlock before quickly turning away and heading into the library.

"Wait! SIR! You can't go back there, it's for employees only!" called the intern before the detective could get too far away.

Without turning back, Sherlock smirked and yelled back "Irrelevant!" loudly, making the library's occupants turn and glare. People shushed him patronizingly to only get a shush right back from Sherlock.

He made his way quickly towards the racks, the path memorized from the few times he had whisked Maria away on some case.

Making his way through the dusty corridors of the dimly lit archive rooms, he wondered how in the world Maria could stand such a musty place.

The archives where obviously well kept, thanks to Maria's hard work, but where dimly lit and dry. Dust collected in some corners while the occasional spider-web hung from the ceiling. It wasn't all bad though, farther off there was a sitting area of sorts and soft, warm light came from a lamp not too far off.

"Needs clean-up... at least she's trying," murmured Sherlock as he followed the lamp's glow.

"MARIA!" yelled the detective suddenly, startling the poor woman as he approached her. She yelped while whipping around, an old book clutched in her raised hand. A wild expressing crossed her face until she realized who had called out to her.

"Sherlock Holmes! You bluddeh scared th'life out'a meh!" Maria jabbered out quickly, trying to calm down. "What are you doing here? It's restricted to civilians!" she chastised the man, fretting what his visit would mean. _'He's excited; please don't tell me this is for a case...'_ She thought.

"Technically, I'm not a civilian." Sherlock replied curtly, glancing around.

"So, what are yeh doing here?"

"Lestrade's got something for us; we've got to go now if we don't want the opportunity to close."

"I can't go Sherlock, I've got to finish this first!" said Maria, waving her book for emphasis. She knew where this was going and even though she wanted to help, she had to say no now. She still had at least 4 hours before she could even start to think of leaving.

"This work is boring! Come on, we've got to go quickly if we're to do all there is planned," said Sherlock in a rush, tugging at Maria so she would follow.

"I've got work, Sherlock! Take John if you need someone," complained Maria. She wanted to go with Sherlock, she loved adventures as much as anyone, but she did have a sense of responsibility.

"He's at work, apparently too busy for this."

Maria just stared at the detective, frustrated.

"Well it's the same thing for me!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, but I need you." Sherlock stated simply.

Maria paused, shocked at his comment, it was lighthearted at best but still. _'He-he needs meh?' _

"Well... what would I do?" she asked reluctantly, starting to sway in her resolve. _'It's not like anyone really cares what I do here. I've snuck out plenty of times so far.'_

"The regular," replied Sherlock cryptically. He liked playing games with Maria, especially since they were pretty equal.

Maria made a face, slightly frustrated. _'This is friendship with the illustrious Sherlock Holmes in a nut shell...'_

"I-I don't know... I don't want to do anything too dangerous..." she said cautiously, remembering what had happened last time. It had been two weeks since her official first case but she still hated attention drawn to her. She would rather be helping Sherlock from the sidelines than right next to him.

"Nonsense, come on," said the detective before turning and heading towards the exit. He knew she would follow him; she always did in the end. Still, he didn't want to waste any more time, with or without her.

After a second of pause for the librarian he smirked when he heard footsteps catching up to him.

"I hate you." muttered Maria.

"No, you don't."

**xXx**

An hour later found Maria standing in Sherlock's flat again, staring curiously at the detective. He had dressed up as a ratty beggar, his face smeared with grit. He was holding up a similar outfit for her, impatient and eager to put action to his plan.

"So we're dressing up again?" Maria asked curiously, having no idea what he was planning.

"Obviously, now come on." Sherlock responded blankly, pushing her towards his bedroom so she could change.

She took the clothes and slipped in quickly, changing as fast as she could. She put on the baggy pants and old sweater. Sherlock had instructed her to dress over her original clothes. _'We'll have to change quickly then... are we going under-cover somewhere?'_

"Hurry up!" called Sherlock from the other side of the door.

"Here, here," answered Maria, exiting the room and following him.

They made their way downstairs quickly, not wasting a moment. Sherlock tried to grab a cab to no avail; apparently cabbies did not like beggars riding in their cars.

"Shall we catch the tube?" asked Maria casually, trying not to giggle at the situation.

"Fine..." answered Sherlock, annoyed that they would have to take a detour.

Soon enough they got to the tube and caught a train. They sat down near the back, trying not to bring too much attention to themselves.

"So what are we going to do by the shoreline?" Maria asked when she recognized the direction they were heading.

"I've gotten my homeless network to set up a spot for us. We'll be staking out a local pub called the 'Ship Inn.' I need to search the place but the owner has sworn vengeance on me."

"People still do tha'?" interrupted Maria disbelievingly.

"He was a dramatic fellow." was the only answer Sherlock gave.

"So, what are we searching for?"

"A man by the name of Neil St Clair has gone missing there and we've been given the mission to find him."

"That's it?" Maria asked, wondering why he had taken the case.

"So far. I'll explain everything later once we're ready. Just follow along," answered the detective before turning away and growing silent.

"Bu-" started Maria before giving up. She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes, bringing up a mental road map so she could see their route. She knew better than to disturb her friend, no matter how infuriating he could get.

Eventually they arrived at the shoreline, about two blocks away from the pub. Gathering up their rags and exiting the tube, they slowly made their way towards a bridge.

Maria followed Sherlock silently, figuring that he probably had a plan.

After walking underneath said bridge, Sherlock lead them to a group of homeless who were sitting on a cement beam. He spoke to them briefly, earning a curious look from Maria. She hung back a bit, wary of the new people.

"Meet the Homeless Network. The most reliable system in London," introduced Sherlock while being followed by two men. One was a burly, stout sort of man with intelligent eyes; the other one was much younger but tall and lean.

Maria observed the raggedy dressed people, watching how they moved.

'_Intellectual enough, none are alcoholics, drug addicts or anythin'. They must get news around town quickleh...' _thought Maria apprehensively. She could see the benefits of the network, no matter how many holes there might be in the system.

"Follow me," said the gruff old man, ushering them towards the pub's back entrance while Maria scanned the surrounding area. They seemed to be in a older and more urban part of town, its streets run down from age.

"You are going to be posted inside the pub. It's a den for the homeless and alcoholics so you'll blend in. You will be monitoring and remembering what is said and done in there, try to focus on what the bar tender says," instructed Sherlock, explaining his plan.

"Don't move until I fetch you. I'll be checking out the second floor and the surroundings for any clues."

"What am I looking for specifically?" asked Maria.

"Anything to do with the disappearance of Neil St Clair, his family or a man named Hugo Bone."

"Hugo Bone?"

"He's a known professional beggar around these parts. He was seen on the second floor of the building when the police arrived. He's in custody now but there isn't any proof that he did anything to St Clair."

"But what happened?" asked Maria, not understanding how St Clair had disappeared. She turned towards Sherlock for his answer, only to see him already heading off with the burly man. Huffing, she could only nod.

"Come on now lass, I'll set you up," said the younger man. Leaning closer to Maria and trying to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"I'll be fine on my own, thank you," she said curly before flashing a warning glare at the man, telling him to back off.

She made her way into the pub through the front entrance, the younger homeless man following a few steps behind. She made her way through the bar until she found a nook near the bar, careful not to attract attention. She had spent years learning how to blend in so it was a matter of minutes before she was completely forgotten.

The bar was small but well built with dark corners and little nooks. The building was from the Victorian era but smelt and looked like an old fashioned fisherman's pub. It had dim lighting, even for this early in the day, low ceilings and great big wood beams that supported the structure. Few people were in the pub at the moment but closer to the back Maria could see a couple of huddled men, probably drunkards or homeless.

Sherlock had no doubt sneaked in through the back and was on his way to the second story.

'_He knows I could help more if he told me all the facts... I might call Lestrade later...'_ thought Maria, still not sure why she needed to do this.

Sherlock was brilliant but could be exceedingly annoying when he didn't tell her what he had planned. _'And yet you're 'ere now, pretendin' teh be a hobo.' _

Shaking herself mentally, Maria settled herself quietly near the bar where the tender was speaking to some other men. Closing her eyes, she relaxed and focused on what she was hearing.

**xXx**

**Author's Note: HAHA! I'm still alive and able to (sort of) write in fluid English! I've been in Latvia for 3 weeks so I really didn't have to time or motivation to write... sorry. **

**Anyway, I'm back now with a really short but hopefully not all that bad chapter! Sorry if the grammar is bad, it's taken me 2 days to write this plus another day to edit it because I'm not used to English right now. **

**So, yeah, I'm starting a new case. It's not the main one, but it'll probably just be a middle one. It's going to be based off of A.C.D's 'The Man With the Twisted Lip' because I still need to get into the swing of my plot. (I also really don't know how to start my main case, I'm having writer's block.)**

**Anyway, thank you for all the reviews and good wishes from the last time I saw them.**

**Reviews and comments are always appreciated and I really, really love when I know someone cares. So please review if you can!**

**Cheers,**

**Elleari**


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